Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
The sole reason for my existence for the last six months. As soon as Grandmom died and there was nothing left to live for anymore.
To make him pay for what he did to her.
Even if I set him up, if the justice served is for what he does to me right now, it’ll be worth it. She deserves to have him pay for what he is.
“Do you want to come in?” I ask him and I let my body sway slightly, thinking of Sam and how she needed this. I have a glass of wine in me, only one but I play up the drunkenness. Maybe that will make this happen quicker.
He doesn’t answer me but he looks over his shoulder before coming in and shutting the door.
“You drinking?” he asks me, looking pointedly at the glass still in my hand. The dark liquid swirls as I shrug and try to think of what to say.
To think of what’s happening right now and not the night that he crept into the bedroom where Sam was. I try not to think of what he did to her and what he’s about to do to me. I was right there. So close to saving her. So close to preventing all this.
But I can make it all better now. I can make it right.
I can be his next victim and make him pay. Because that’s what I came here to do.
“Dean doesn’t want me anymore, so I thought I’d celebrate being single again,” I say to the ground, keeping my eyes half-shut. I think maybe he’ll use that to convince me to talk to him. Or to somehow try to weasel his way into me sleeping with him for revenge or something.
Whatever it takes.
“Already a bottle in?” he says with a smirk, looking at the empty bottle on the dining room table as he reaches for the buckle on his belt.
“What are you doing?” I ask out of instinct. My hair stands on end and my blood slows, my heart stops.
“I know how to make you feel better,” he says as he pulls the leather through the loops of his pants. Say something. Two different voices scream in my head. One to let him, to agree with him. One to tell him no.
My blood runs cold. Say something. The need to run almost overwhelms me but I stand still. It’s only when he drops the belt on the ground and lets the buckle clang that I can’t hold it back any longer.
I don’t want to tell him no because I want him to hurt me. This is exactly what I planned but I can’t do it. I can’t keep my promise to her.
“You should—”
“Come here,” he interrupts me before I can say go.
I try to push him off of me, hating how he grips my arm. His thick fingers dig into my skin, bruising me and holding me still.
I didn’t expect this. She was on the bed. She could barely move. She told me. But this isn’t like that.
A scream tears from my throat and I try to run but he trips me, grabbing my thigh and covering my mouth.
“We both know you wanted this,” he grunts as he digs into the waistband of my pajama pants.
He has no idea.
This is all I’ve wanted for so long.
For justice, the only way I know how to get it.
Even so, when he pushes me back against the sofa, I continue to fight him. At first, I think it’s instinct. But when he smiles and grips my hips, pushing me and pulling me down, the sick feeling of regret makes my skin go cold.
“Leave me alone,” I yell, scorching my throat but he doesn’t listen. My nails rake the back of his hand as he shoves me down with a bruising force.
I wish I could stop him.
“Stop!” I scream out, kicking him, but he covers my face. My heart beats wildly.
I changed my mind. I don’t want this. I try to scream again but he yanks my arm behind my back and pins me in place, forcing me facedown on the sofa.
“I’ve always wanted to play with a girl like you.”
I’ll never forget the smell of the blood. The air was thick with it although I didn’t know what it was until later.
The floor creaked as I stepped into Sam’s bedroom. I called out her name, pushing the door open wider, but deep down I already knew something had happened. The house was quiet, save the click of the air conditioner turning on. Even that made me jump.
Sam! I called out louder when I didn’t see her on her bed where she usually was. Her phone was there, though. Right in the center of the neatly made bed.
I can still see her now, sitting cross-legged and bobbing her head, making her ponytail swish back and forth as she listened to the music blaring from her earbuds. But that was the old Sam. The girl who knew who she was and loved herself.