Page 146 of Explosive Prejudice

“This is a nice building.” Orson walked toward me while looking around, unfazed that he’d just killed someone. “New, no neighbors. Makes it a whole lot easier.”

“Stay away!” I screamed and tried to crawl back, but then my hand touched something warm and sticky, and I brought it up to see it was red.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

My stomach flipped a moment before I threw up. The awful taste, mixed with the strong scent of vomit and blood, made me hurl more. And while I was breathlessly heaving, Orson laughed from above me.

“Really? Over some blood? I expected more from you.”

Brushing my mouth with the back of my other hand, I tried to stand on shaky legs, only for Orson to kick me from behind. I fell face-first on the floor.

“We’re tired of your little games,” he said, then crouched beside me.

“Get away!” I yelled, trying to slap his hideous face.

“Very tired.” Pushing my hand away, he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back.

“D-don’t touch me,” I somehow managed to spit. “He’ll kill you if you do. You know that.” Right. I needed to use the only card I had left. “My dad will kill you for doing this to me.” I spoke fast, my lips curling into a nervous smile I couldn’t control. “So you can’t touch me. You can’t.”

Orson’s brows curved close, and he gave me an amused look. “What are you talking about?” He clenched his fist harder around my hair. “I’m here under his orders.”

Hearing him say that was like listening to my own death sentence.

“Oh, look at you, looking so frightened.” He caressed my jaw. “You truly are gorgeous.” Biting his bottom lip, he then ducked his head down and tried to kiss me, but I pushed him away and got out from underneath him.

I stood again and dashed for the door. With trembling hands, I unlocked it, but before I could escape, Orson yanked me back forcefully, then tossed me to the floor.

I gasped as he kicked my back, the pain spreading through my body, and cried with pain as once again he gripped my hair and pulled it from the roots.

“Stop, please, stop,” I begged, tears running down my face. “Dad, please, I’m sorry.” My screams ripped my throat. “Please, Dad, I know you can hear me.” It was my last hope. If Orson was here, it meant my dad was too. “Dad, please, I’ll be good, I promise, please.”

Orson laughed, but that didn’t stop me.

“Dad, please! I love you, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything, just please—” Choking on my own words, I began coughing.

My vision blurred, and my head pounded. I was scared, fucking terrified, but my fear helped me with nothing because my dad didn’t suddenly show up, and Orson didn’t miraculously stop. Far from it, even. While I was crying like never before, Orson was laughing his heart out.

Pressing his shoe to my face, he nudged it aside so I’d meet his stare, then hovered above me. “You know, he and I made a bet. I said it would take you at least an hour before you’d start screaming for him, but he said it would take no longer than ten minutes.” He checked his watch. “Looks like he won.”

My face burned with shame. I didn’t want to call out for him, but he was all I had. Since the day I was born into this horrible world, my father was the only thing I had. He’d kept me safe until I foolishly pushed him away, and now, I was being punished for my stupidity.

No.

This isn’t true.

I had Camilo.

Right?

Camilo was mine. I knew it. Deep down, I knew it.

Closing my eyes, I tried to imagine his face and somehow succeeded. The warmth of his touch gave me a little bit of comfort, and I moved my hand to my necklace, his necklace, remembering our promise to get married and live a happy life. This fairy tale was washed quickly away as I opened my eyes and spotted Rosa’s body.

Struck with nausea, I shifted my head aside and hurled again, gagging when I choked on my own vomit.

“Eww,” Orson hissed. “Are you going to keep doing it the whole time?”

I coughed, cleared my mouth, and shook my head.

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