Page 126 of Slaughter

She gets up on her hands and knees to crawl away, but they slip in the water that has pooled around her along with the blood, and he kicks her in the face. She sprawls out on the floor, and he kicks her in the stomach again. She’s too weak to fight him anymore.

He straddles her and fists his hands before landing punch after punch to her face, chest, and stomach until she is an unconscious, bloody fucking mess. When he stands, he’s breathing heavy. She lies there, looking half dead while the blood pours from her nose and mouth. Her nose is broken and possibly her jaw. Her lips are busted. And she has countless bruises.

He looks right at the camera. “You better make sure no one ever fucking sees this.”

“Of course, Dad,” Vaughn says with excitement. “Can I have her now?”

“No,” he snaps. “She doesn’t belong to any of you boys! She belongs to me!” he shouts, punching his own chest. “Now go call Lance. Get his ass here to pick her up before your brother returns from his trip.” He then points at my room. “And clean up all that mess. Can’t leave any evidence for Avery to see.”

The screen goes black.

PRESLEIGH

I lie in Avery’s bed staring at the ceiling when I hear the door open. I sit up, not pretending to be asleep when he stumbles in. He shuts the door and leans against it. Raising a bottle of scotch to his lips, he greedily drinks, his throat working, but some of it manages to run down the side of his lips and trails down his chin to his shirt.

Once he lowers it, he leans his head back on the door, and it hits with a thud as he closes his eyes.

I look him over to see he has blood on his knuckles, and it’s his because he has a few cuts. Then my eyes drop to his pants, and they too have blood on them. “Did you get hurt?” I ask.

He lifts his head, and his eyes land on mine. He stares at me, not saying a word, but I can see the pain in his blue eyes. His chest heaves, and his eyes are red. I’ve never seen him cry, but he looks on the verge of tears.

“Avery?” I ask, getting out of his bed. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

His eyes drop to my stomach. All I’m wearing is one of his T-shirts. Then he looks away. “I can’t even look at you.” He speaks softly.

My stomach drops, and my chest tightens. My arms come up to wrap around my waist. I drop my head to stare at the floor, shame washing over me. He’ll never look at me the same. He’ll never touch me the same. Once again, Victor managed to ruin my life. I’ve dealt with this for the past eleven years. I’ve felt it. It’s why I kept my secret. To avoid this. It’s why I sleep around—to prove to myself that he didn’t win. No matter how much numbness I still felt. “I don’t expect you to understand,” I say and swallow the tightness in my throat. “How I feel. What I need.”

“I have a pretty good idea of how you feel.”

I look back up at him through my hair, and he’s taking another drink from the bottle. He drops it to his side, and his eyes meet mine briefly before looking away once again.

I feel tears start to well in mine. “I need you to touch me—”

“No!” he growls, interrupting me.

My anger grows. “I’m here because of you!” I snap, and his jaw tightens. “I was fine with my life—”

“Being a whore?” He snorts, interrupting me again. “How was that working out for you?”

“Fuck you, Avery!” I shout, my face turning red.

He drops his head, running his free hand through his hair. “I’m sor …” He stops himself midway through his apology. “I …” He looks up at me. “I watched the tapes.”

“What tapes?” I ask, my heart picking up.

“The tapes of what Victor did to you.”

He must be mistaken. Drunk and confused maybe. “I don’t understand …” I whisper.

“Vaughn taped everything my father did to you. When he raped you in my bed. Then forced you to shower. When he beat you in my bathroom. All of it.”

No. He has to be lying. That can’t be true. I remember Vaughn recording me in the kitchen, but then he left me and Victor alone. He said he had something I needed to give Avery when he returned, so I had followed him up to the second floor. As soon as I hit the landing, he grabbed me. His hands digging in my hair, then he dragged me into Avery’s room. “No,” I whisper.

“I watched him treat you like one of his fucking slaves.” He takes another drink from the bottle. “I watched you call out for me. I watched how he treated you as if you meant fucking nothing!” His voice rises, and tears sting my eyes. “I watched him clean you off and then beat you!” he shouts.

I place a hand over my mouth as a sob comes out. “How could you?” I whisper as the tears spill over my eyes. “How could you watch that?”

“I had to know,” he says with no shame.

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