Page 31 of The Eraser

Fuck, he smells worse than a brewery. He must have drunk his weight in whiskey.

"You and that fucking mouth of yours. Always getting in the way, always spouting shite to the wrong person. You need to learn, Jessica. Learn that what I say is fucking law." He fists his hand into my hair and pulls.

Tears spring to my eyes at the sheer pain of the grip he's got on me. Things are worse tonight. It's been a long time since he started that shit about his word being law. He truly believes he's important in this life. He has no fucking clue. My uncle hates him, especially now that dad’s hit me. There’s no way Jerry’s going to let him get away with it.

I thought I was safe. I had made it to my room without seeing him. But he followed me, and now he’s here, angrier and drunker than I’ve seen him in a while.

"Dad," I whisper, but I know it's no use. The look of absolute hatred in his eyes has me trying to pull away from him, but the grip he has on my hair just tightens.

The first punch I manage to dodge, but I don't see the second or third one he throws. I fall to my knees and release a strangled groan. I'm unable to right myself before he gives me a swift kick to my ribs.

"You are the fucking bane of my existence." He sneers as he lands yet another punch to my face. My vision blurs as I try to grip hold of something to keep me upright, but I'm reaching for air. "You're done, Jessica. Fucking done. I've had enough."

He kicks me once again, and pain explodes in my chest. I'm slowly losing consciousness.

"You'll be out of my hair soon enough," he tells me as he lifts his foot above my head. He brings it down against my face, and his words are the last thing I hear before the blackness takes over.

ChapterThirteen

STEPHEN

"Where is she?"I ask Jer. It's been almost an hour since she left the room, her da following not far behind her.

Jer's eyes narrow. "What's it to you and my niece?" There's anger in his voice, along with a reprimand. I get it; he's worried about his niece, but he needs to turn that the fuck around and focus on his brother-in-law. Fucking Thomas Grace. That cunt has been walking around the house like a bull in a china shop, glaring and growling at the majority of guests who had come to remember his deceased wife.

I chuckle. He's seriously picked the wrong time to fucking question me. "Jer," I say thickly, "your niece is someone I care about."

His eyes narrow. "The fuck does that mean?"

"She's someone I care about. Now where the fuck is she?" I say, each word clipped.

His back straightens and he glances around the room. "Where the fuck is Thomas?" he snarls. "Fuck. You go find Jess, I'll find that prick."

I don't need to be told twice. I glance toward Freddie and tilt my head. He doesn't need any further instructions. He follows me out of the room and we head up the stairs. I take them two at a time. There's something in my gut that's screaming at me. I need to find her. I have a sickening feeling that Thomas has gotten to her, and if I find out that's true, that bastard had better hide, because the moment I find him, he's going to suffer.

"Which room is Jessica's?" Freddie asks.

"Dunno, but we'll check them all. Jer's looking for Thomas," I tell him. "Although I have a feeling he's gone."

Freddie moves to one end of the hall and I go to the other. The first door I come across is the bathroom. I leave it open and push open the next one. It's an empty bedroom. My gut is screaming at me, and dread fills me as I continue to search for Jessica.

Pushing open the next door, my fucking heart stops. I swear to fuck, it skips a fucking beat as I see my beautiful dancer lying on the floor, blood smeared over her face from where she's been worked over. I'm stuck to the spot, unable to move. Christ, she shouldn't have been touched. She's innocent, so fucking sweet, so damn perfect, and that cunt has hurt her, has done this to her? A red haze forms over my eyes and I have the urge to go hunting for the bastard. I've never felt such a strong need to kill someone before now.

"Fuck," Freddie hisses as he pushes past me and drops to his knees. His fingers go to her neck. "She's alive. She's just unconscious. "Christ, Stephen, he's worked her over badly. She's going to need a doctor."

I nod. "Call Maverick," I snarl. "Get him here. It's time to make sure Jess is no longer in Thomas' line of sight." I take a steadying breath, pushing the urge to hunt deeper down inside of me. Right now, I need to focus on Jess and getting her safe. "No one enters this room," I tell him. "Not a fucking soul."

He nods tightly. "No one will," he assures me.

I know most people look at Freddie and see a joker, someone who thieves. They don't see the depraved man underneath it all. Freddie can and has killed before. He doesn't care for it, but he'll do it.

I move to the closet and find a bag. I start to rip her clothes from the hangers and throw them into the bag. She's coming with us. There's no fucking way I'm leaving her behind. Not a fucking chance will I allow anyone to harm her. Not again. It's clear that this isn't the first time. It shouldn't have happened ever and that's something that needs to be dealt with.

Where the fuck has her family been while that cunt has been hurting her?

Once I have her clothes packed, I start throwing loads of odd shit into the bag: pictures, trinkets, shit from her drawers. Whatever I've forgotten, I'll make sure to replace. She doesn't ever need to return here.

Freddie enters the room with a washcloth and hands it to me. I start to clean the blood from her face as we wait for Maverick to arrive. I need to see the damage Thomas has done to her. Thankfully, it doesn't look as though he's broken anything, but she's going to have some bruises, something I doubt is new to her.

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