Page 328 of Hateful Games

“It’s been a while since my parting gift,” he grins, flipping my skirt until my panties are bared. His gaze drops to the inside of my thigh to the cigarette burns and he licks his lips. “Did Nova see my handiwork? I bet he did. No way he didn’t fuck you day and night.”

Tears of humiliation spill as I try to divert my mind when he cups me boldly.

The sound of footsteps approaching saves me from being raped.

Throwing open the door, he pushes me inside and I slam hard into a nearby table. The edge of it hitting me in the ribs and digging in painfully.

When he leaves, I don’t hear the lock click.

As if he’s arrogant enough I won’t try to escape twice now that I’m subdued.

I want to crumble to the floor and shake the memory of his filthy touch. Before I lose the fight and curl into a ball and cry, I shake myself out of the stupor. Time is ticking. I glance around the room and zoom in on the burning fireplace.

I watch the orange flames, licking higher and spreading warmth, not that I feel anything other than cold and numb. I eye the small bar in the corner hosting several expensive bottles of liquor. Two windows with curtains hanging over them.

Without wasting a second, I run and grab the first bottle and begin spilling it around the room. I keep going until most of the space is reeking of alcohol. The desk, the bookshelves, everything wet. It won’t be enough.

Cautiously, I approach the door and twist the knob.

My heart leaps to my throat while every inch of my body aches. I peer around the corner and the hallway is empty. I slip out and make my way to the garage on the opposite end. When I reach downstairs, I go straight for the large can of gasoline Raghu, my old bodyguard, kept in the back.

It’s heavy and I have to drag it to the bottom of the stairs. When I lift it, pain shoots up my spine. So, before I lose the last of my strength, I ascend the stairs. My luck continues when I still find the hallway deserted. Quickly, I hurry to the study, some of the liquid spilling onto the floor.

I spread the flammable liquid on the furniture and wall opposite to the burning fire in the fireplace. I won’t have much time. One wrong spill or splash, it’ll only be my burned-alive body they find. Rounding Dad’s desk, I find his cigar lighter in the second drawer. I’m playing a suicidal game, but I’m done.

Everything ends tonight.

Without Nova, there’s nothing in this world for me anymore.

I stay hidden in the corner next to the door. The only exit. The clock strikes four in the morning over the wide desk when I hear footfalls creak outside, coming closer. I switched off the lights so they won’t notice the liquid on the hardwood floor. Although, the scent might give it away.

My heartbeat picks up as seconds pass before the knob turns.

My dad enters first.

Behind him my uncle.

“What are you doing, Rosalie?” snaps Dad.

Uncle, who I hear sniff loudly, walks in farther toward the switch board near the bookshelves. The second the lights turn on, blinding them for a second, I use it to shove Dad away from the door.

They whip around to face me, gaze homing in to the lighter in my hand.

The smell of alcohol sinks into their senses and understanding dawns.

Satisfaction burns at their nervousness.

“Rosalie,” swallows my dad, eyeing the fireplace in the corner. The flames are burning brighter and a whooshing sound pierces the air. The curtain flies in its direction, barely missing from catching on fire.

In my peripheral, I see Uncle approaching me.

“Say goodbye to your reign, Dad.”

I flip on the lighter and throw it toward the fireplace. Mayhem occurs at once as a loud blast goes off and the orange glow reaches the ceiling. The curtains at last in flames, then the books and the papers. Smoke billows all around.

Running outside the door, I pull it close to lock them inside.

Except, a hand curls around the edge to stop me.

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