Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
• Prologue •
Another reason he deserved to die.
Briar
Four Years Ago
I wasn’t sure which was worse. The cold sweat that had broken out over my body or the hammering of my heart against my chest. If anyone were to look at me, they’d think I had taken something. Drug use was most likely common here. No one would think much of it if they did take notice of me standing outside the run-down trailer, where the man who had assisted in giving me life and his wife lived. I didn’t know her, and I had no intention of getting to know her. My biggest concern was her getting in the way. She’d done nothing to me, but if I had to, I’d take her out too. Because I wasn’t leaving here until Roger Ball, my father, was dead.
If it was just me he’d ruined, broken, then I could let this go. Move on with my life. The nightmares would never go completely away. I’d already accepted that. I’d learned to work through the horror and compartmentalize it. Forget the nightmare my childhood had been. But this wasn’t just about me. I wasn’t the only girl he’d broken. I had just been the first.
He’d stopped looking for me long ago. I was the last person he’d expect to show up on his doorstep. The gun tucked at my side, hidden under my jacket, wasn’t something he’d be looking for either. I wasn’t the young girl who had run away six years ago, and I wasn’t Melissa anymore either. I’d become a survivor. Fighting my battles and overcoming my past without any help.
This new life I’d forged for myself didn’t take away all that he’d done. That would always mark me. Killing Roger wouldn’t take away my demons I kept buried deep inside, but it would stop him from damaging other girls. Stealing them of their innocence. Not everyone was as strong as me. I would fight for them because I could.
I kept telling myself those words over and over as I made my way to the door, having to step over garbage, pieces of what I assumed had been a motorcycle once, and empty cans of beer. Tracking him down had been easy enough. The internet didn’t hide those who didn’t want to be hidden. This was better than the meth house he’d been living in when I left, but I doubted much had changed inside the walls he called home.
I slid my clammy hand over the cool metal at my side, reminding myself it was there. I was safe from him, but he wouldn’t be safe from me. The cool autumn breeze brushed my hair back from my face, but did little for the full-body sweat I was experiencing.
This had to be done, and I was the one who had to do it. He was a monster, and the world needed to be ridded of monsters.
Taking my hand off my pistol, I took a deep breath, then knocked on the door. A sick knot began to twist inside my stomach, and I felt bile in my throat. Being this close to him again was harder than I’d imagined it would be. It had taken me months after stealing this gun to get the nerve to come here. I’d always known I would come back for this reason alone. But thinking it and planning it were different from actually acting on it.
After a few moments, I knocked again. If he wasn’t home, I’d have to hide out somewhere and wait. I was ready to get this over with. I wanted to get away from here. Back to my new apartment that I’d been given. I wouldn’t think about how I’d been given such a nice place to live because it would bring on the shame that I didn’t have time for at the moment.
One thing at a time, I told myself.
The doorknob turned slowly, and I watched it as my hand went back to the gun at my side. There was a peephole, and I hadn’t covered it. I wanted him to look out here and see me. But the way the door was being eased open put me on alert.
Perhaps he expected me to come back one day and take his life. What if he had a gun? I hadn’t thought of that. There was always the chance he was high on whatever his newest fix was.
The door was opened barely a crack. My hand tightened its grip as I waited. He wouldn’t shoot me at his door, where the neighbors could witness it. This wasn’t the classiest trailer park. In fact, it could be defined as trashy. But even here, a woman shot in broad daylight would draw attention.
When the crack widened just a tad more, I saw no one there. My gaze dropped until a pair of eyes stopped me. They were staring up at me. A few inches shorter than I was. A girl.