Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
No, I most certainly wasn't as strong as him, but I was damn well trying to be. He’d saved my life in every way that mattered.
Now it was my turn.
I just hoped that after he read my letter that he’d be able to read through the lines, and forgive me when I finished doing what I needed to do.
“I love you,” I whispered, hoping above all hope that he knew that without a doubt, and wouldn't condemn me for leaving.
As quietly as I could be, I grabbed my bag and slipped out of the bedroom door, carefully tiptoeing around where I knew the guards would be, and then making my way out of one of the many back patio doors that led out to Gareth’s large property.
Once I cleared the lush grass, it was almost too easy to slip through the gates and head down two blocks to where my Lyft was waiting for me. A stranger in a car driving me to the airport so I could fly back to my previous prison.
After an uneventful flight, my blood ran cold as my Lyft driver pulled up to my father's house, certainly the place of my ruin.
He's worth it.
Gareth was worth everything.
I repeated the mantra as I walked up the long drive. The gates opened for me automatically, and my father was waiting at the front door.
He looked worse than he ever had before, his beard unkempt, purple beneath his eyes, and just a hint of desperation in them. He folded his arms over his chest, his face scrunching up like he'd bit into a lemon as he looked me over.
“You're late,” he chided.
“We sat on the tarmac for an hour after landing,” I said, surprised at the strength in my voice even though my entire being was trembling, cowering. It took me living an entirely different life to see just how badly he’d treated me my entire life, and now that couldn't be undone. I would always see him for what he was, but that didn't change the way my body reacted in his presence. My self-preservation instincts begged me to submit, to withhold the snarky comments, to not lash out at him and rage and provoke him.
I sucked in a deep breath, assuring myself I had a role to play. One that would make or break Gareth. And for him, I could do anything, be anything.
“You'll find your room is as you left it,” he said, still blocking the entryway to the house. “It's late. I trust you remember your nighttime requirements?”
My blood curdled, and it was all I could do to smooth my features into an indifferent mask. “I do.”
“Good. Do them. I'll see you at breakfast after you've done your exercises.”
I dipped my head the way I knew he liked, and he stepped out of my way, letting me into the house.
An eerie sense of familiarity washed over me as he followed me down the hallways as I made my way to my old room. The house that I’d grown up in now felt entirely different and unfamiliar.
The Serenity who’d been trapped in this house for years was not the same Serenity I was today. My father and his antics and this fucking house had been the reason that I didn’t have one ounce of privacy or personal space in order to figure out who I really was and what I really wanted.
But now I knew. And there was something so damn freeing about that knowledge.
My father lingered outside of my bedroom door as I stepped inside, and I silently turned around, awaiting whatever other instructions he was about to give me.
“You made a grave mistake,” he said, backhanding me so hard I saw stars. I bit my lip to stop the yelp that threatened to escape from the pain. Instead I swallowed it, forcing myself to not show an ounce of pain. “But you're making a smart choice now,” he continued, almost looking disappointed at my lack of response to the hit. “We may be able to salvage what you so thoroughly ruined.” And with that, he shut my door, and I heard him shuffle down the hallway.
I flipped off the closed door and rolled my eyes before taking stock of my old room. It really hadn't been touched. Nothing was different.
Nothing except me.
I headed into the bathroom, noting the array of skin care products already laid out and ready for me to use for my nighttime routine, all the steps that should be seen as self-care were obligations to keep a priceless asset pretty.
I shoved all the products in a drawer, not out of any hatred for their quality, but just for what they represented.
Control.
Everything with my father had been about control. Everything with most of the males in power in my family had been about controlling not only the people who worked for them but their wives and daughters and sons.