Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
“You’re my daughter.”
His voice softens, but it’s fake. I know my father, and I’ve learned to read him over the years. He’s the master at playing games to win sympathy. He wears many masks, but I see through all of them. When I don’t respond, the silence stretches. I let it linger, seeing what he’ll do next. He hates the quiet.
“You belong to me!” he finally bellows, letting the truth ring out between us. The front door shakes again, harder this time. The wood groans, but it doesn’t budge. He must have thrown his whole body against it.
I decide I need more things between us, and I rush back toward the bedroom. I search for a landline the whole way, but who would I call? Am I actually in trouble and about to be arrested? Bronco comes to mind, and I close my eyes, imagining his coldness from this morning before he walked out the door. It was so different than how he’d gazed at me before.
When I make it to the bedroom, I start throwing everything I can into a bag. It’s then I spot the cell phone Bronco gave me. I grab it off the nightstand and see it’s dead. Of course it is. I finally want to text him and I can’t. It’s only a matter of time before my father makes it through that door or tries a window next. When he gets his mind set on something, nothing is going to change it.
I try and think but it’s hard when all I can hear is my father shouting as he bangs against the door. I hate the fear creeping up inside of me. The reality is I might want to be strong, but I’m no match for him physically. If I go with him, then I could escape later. I know once he gets into this house he’s going to be pissed if I’m trying to run. It’s been a while since I’ve been on that side of my father’s anger. I don’t know if he would hit me, but I know he has it in him.
Before I zip my bag, I grab the cell phone and charger and stuff it inside. I’ll never be able to live with myself if I don’t reach out to Bronco at least once to know where he stands. Something deep inside of me screams that he loves me, but it’s so hard to believe that with the life I’ve led. Nothing ever goes in my favor, and I’m easily discarded like trash.
I barely get the bag tossed over my shoulder when I hear the splintering of the front door.
When I step out into the hallway, I have two choices. I could run out the back or go with him and try to escape later. I think I could outrun him, but he might end up snatching me before I make it to the back door. If I go with him, then I can try and call Bronco at some point.
My father and I stare at each other down the long hallway as the seconds tick by. Eventually he stares my body up and down.
“You fucked him, didn’t you? You’re a whore just like your mother. I knew it. You couldn't even get him to marry you first.”
I’m not sure I’m the marrying type. I know Bronco said if I got pregnant he’d take care of the baby, but that didn’t sound like wedding bells to me. He never said anything about me being his wife. Hell, I’d jumped into his bed as fast as a buckle bunny. What if that’s all I’d ever be to him?
My eyes widen when a giant figure appears in the doorway, and it only takes me half a second to realize who it is.
I guess Bronco found me first.
Chapter Eighteen
Bronco
“Sweet thing, put that bag down and back away,” I tell Tracy but don’t look her way. Instead, I keep my eyes directly on Mr. Walker. “I’m going to take care of this shit, so you can go on outside and wait for me.”
“Bronco,” she says softly.
“Go outside and wait for me. I want to do this before the sheriff shows up,” I say, but then Walker moves to the right and blocks her escape.
“Do what?” he sneers at me. “You got the Circle C and the dirty books. If she stays here, she’ll be the one in cuffs.”
Realizing his meaning, I grind my back teeth in anger. “You’re a real piece of shit, you know that? It takes a special kind of asshole to throw their daughter under the bus.” He doesn’t bother to deny a word of what I’m saying. “Let me guess, you filed it all in her name? And I’m willing to take a guess and say the bank won’t release the funds I wired to you unless she signs off on it?”