Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67372 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67372 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
The strikes are hard enough I know I’ll bruise from them. More bruises. The story of my life. A sob rips from my throat. I hold on to the comforter, praying for this to all be over soon.
It will be.
A few more hours.
Over and over he smacks me until I feel like I’m going numb. And then it’s over. Whispered apologies and soft caresses. I hate those more. My mind is curling around itself, blocking everything else out, especially him.
I’m not here.
I’m not here.
I’m with them.
Don’t think about the hand or the warm flesh rubbing against my sore ass.
Think about Sparrow and Sully.
And Scout.
Scout. Scout. Scout.
A furry pink cat paw sticks out from beneath the pillow.
“There’s a surprise for you, too. In case you need it.”
Did he leave me a phone? To call him in case it got too bad?
Awkward caresses in terrible places make me gag, forcing me to rejoin reality and take note of my body. My pants and underwear are gone. I want him off me. Away from me.
Scout.
I need Scout.
Not hours from now. Right now!
Fumbling under the pillow, I reach for the phone, hoping I can somehow call him without Dad noticing.
He didn’t leave me a phone. He left me something heavy and metal.
When my body is flipped onto my back, I grab hold of the metal. As my legs are wrenched apart, I aim it.
This is going to happen—again. What he first took from me, when I was so fucking young and every time thereafter, was wrong and sick. It’s happening all over again. Like it’s his right to take and take and take.
No.
I scream the word. Over and over and over. A plea. A demand. A warning.
He doesn’t listen.
Squeeze.
The bang is loud, echoing in my ears. It’s effective in stopping all the prodding. I gasp when his body slumps against mine. Warm liquid oozes out of the hole I made in his chest, soaking my own.
A gun.
I have a gun in my hand.
Help me.
I need help.
Deep, soul-crushing sobs begin wracking through me. What did I do? How could I have done it? This is real. I really did this.
“I’m t-tired,” I choke through my tears. “D-Dad, I’m t-tired.”
He’s not saying anything.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
“Read me a story,” I whisper. “Like when I was little.”
So quiet.
So, so quiet.
My teeth start chattering so hard my jaw aches. A chill races down my spine, cooling every vein in my body. I’m so cold. I just want to sleep.
I’m tired.
I’m tired.
“Daddy, read me a bedtime story.” I shake his shoulder. “Dad! Dad, wake up!”
He slides off the bed, falling to the floor with a loud thud. I’m drenched in crimson.
So. Much. Blood.
“Wake up!” I scream, shuddering so bad the bed creaks. “Wake up!”
But he doesn’t.
He’s going to sleep forever.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sparrow
I can’t get her out of my mind.
How stunning she was, wrecked and her supple lips parted as Sully and I took turns fucking her mouth.
“I’m done waiting around,” I grind out. “Let’s do this shit already.”
Our original plan to dig up dirt and expose him was fruitless. We wasted a fucking week on that shit. We all know Alexander Croft isn’t squeaky clean because he abuses his own children, but he is really good at cleaning up trails. I had the best people on it, because I took advantage of any and all Morelli connections I’d made over the years. Even they couldn’t find anything hard to nail him to the wall on.
“I’ll call Ty,” Sully offers, waiting for Scout to tell us to hold back.
Scout’s nostrils flare and then he nods.
Thank fuck.
Ever since we left her at the party and came back to our apartment, we’ve all three been on edge. Our need for her is a living, palpable thing. It’s starting to become maddening.
After tonight, she’ll always be with us.
No one, not even her billionaire daddy, will stand in our way.
“Do you think Ty has left the party yet?” Sully asks, fishing his phone from his pocket.
Scout holds up a hand, his brows pinching as he reads something on his own phone. The next second he’s on his feet and jabbing a finger at the front door.
“We have to go. Now!”
Sully jumps into action, shoving his feet into his shoes, and then we’re out the door. As we make it into the elevator, Sully and I shoot Scout a questioning look. His expression is thunderous, the rage beneath the surface a violent tornado waiting to be unleashed.
“He hurt her?” I guess, unable to keep my own fury at bay.
“When doesn’t he hurt her?” Scout seethes. “She called Ty.”
An explosion of jealousy detonates inside me. I want to demand to know why she called him instead of us, but Scout is already powering forward.
“From Alexander’s phone. Ty’s number was saved on there and she didn’t have ours memorized.” His words cool my blood a bit. He continues, his eyes flickering with malevolence. “Ty said she was crying so hard he couldn’t even understand her. She kept asking for us. He’s still at the party, stuck schmoozing with his family.”