Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 106754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
"No," I snarl in response, cracking the belt in my hands. "Now you're going to listen to me for a change."
He laughs, making another move to snatch it away from me, but I'm too fast. I've got him backed up against a wall in seconds, breathing heavily.
"Parker, let's talk reasonably," he begins, sounding out of breath. "Let's sit down and talk."
"Are you afraid?" I laugh out loud. "Afraid of the monster you created?"
"I tried to help you," he grunts. "I tried to make it better. I tried to make you a better man... But you were always just a monster."
"Being a monster isn't so bad. You should know, Dad." My voice is dripping with vicious venom, and I'm not even attempting to cover it up. "Besides, you only made things fucking worse, and now it's time to pay. Pay for all the shit you've done through the years. Pay for every bruise and every hit, every punch, every slap you gave me."
For the next hour, I turn the tables on Dad. I torture him this time. I've always been fascinated by pain, but I've never let myself truly explore it, not like I do that day. And at the end of the session, I'm the one who's forcing him to put long sleeves on to cover the bruises.
There's something about seeing him like that—meek, heartbroken—that makes adrenaline rush through my veins. I fucking love the feeling, I could live on it. It's addictive, making me wonder whether Dad really hit me for my own benefit, or if he has the same darkness running through his veins as I do. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree... whether it's good or bad.
We join the others downstairs a few hours later. Dad looks small and pale in his blue shirt and suit. But I'm more carefree than I've ever been. I clap my brother on the back and hug my little sis, and I wink at my father. He winces. He knows he can't do anything to stop me now, and I'm reveling in that feeling.
"Thank you so much all for coming!" Rachel speaks up, clinking a fork against her glass. "Our wedding anniversary has been beautiful because of every single person here."
"Hear, hear!" I nod jovially, raising a glass to my father who watches me with a crestfallen expression. The old man's world is crumbling now, and I'm loving it. I can't wait to see that pained expression on his face every fucking day. To know I've bested him. That things are going to go my goddamn way from now on. "To the Wildfox-Millers."
"To us," Rachel nods, and the five of us clink glasses.
"I have a special present for the two of you," I add with a grin. "And I just can't fucking wait to show you..."
18
June
Life goes on. Slowly and painfully, it moves forward, without a single call from Kade.
I spend a lot of time with Parker, to the point where he’s practically living with me. He’s so sweet, so worried, always next to me, holding me when I cry, consoling me when I feel like I might break in half. Today we’re in my living room because I’m refusing to leave the house. It just feels safe here, even though some might think I’m a little bit morbid for staying in the place that housed too much pain, so many people who aren’t here anymore. Parker’s stretched out on the couch, playing some violent video game, and I’m pretending to be engrossed in my book.
“Parker,” I ask softly, closing the finished book with a thud. I don't remember a word of what I've just read.
“Yep,” he responds, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. He can see I’m hesitating, and I’m surprised when he puts down his controller and focuses his attention on me. When did he start caring about me more than his video games? I wonder. Sure, we were always close, but Parker's priority has always been himself, and now it seems as if I've taken up that top spot.
“Tell me,” he says and offers a nice, albeit a little impatient smile, his eyes flickering back to the TV screen where his game is paused.
“Well,” I begin. What I’m about to suggest would send Kade in a rage a few weeks ago, and while I’ve offered before, I’m not sure how Parker will accept my preposition. “You’ve been staying with friends now for how long?”
“A few weeks,” Parker answers, eyes dashing between the screen and me. “You know I can’t go back there. Not now that I know what he wanted to do with you.”
I nod slowly. He refuses to talk to Kade, and while I understand, I feel awful for breaking their bond. They used to be thick as thieves, and now it’s all gone to hell because of me. And I can’t help it, but I don’t share Parker’s sentiment. Every time the phone rings, I still wish it were Kade on the other side.