Page 71 of Dirty Heirs

As I swung one leg over the fence, he tugged the other foot, trying to pull me back down to him. Struggling to break free, I kicked him in the face.

“Bitch,” he groaned.

I hopped over the fence and didn’t look back, even though I knew he was not far behind. He was ruthless in his pursuit. So were the men who killed my mother. They took until there was nothing left of her.

“You’re not getting away, you little bitch,” the man said, not far behind me.

My body was beaten to hell and felt weighed down by sand. Fuck, I needed to start working out. No more burgers and fries if I got away from this asshole in one piece.

From a distance, I could see my creepy-ass house. The old Victorian mansion loomed over my street like a creature conjured from someone’s nightmares.

So close.

Almost there.

The man caught up to me and clawed at my clothing, trying to pull me backward. I was small but scrappy. Having three older brothers had come in handy. They taught me to fight, so I swung my fists at his face.

“Someone help me!” I screamed loud enough to catch the attention of the men standing guard outside my house.

I hit him with everything I had left. But the jerk clutched my wrists, maintaining a firm grip, breathing the scent of cigarettes in my face. He was somewhere in his thirties. And now that we were up close, I could see a scar running down the length of his neck.

Before I started to lose oxygen, two shadowy figures approached. One of them hit the man on the head. The other kicked him in the balls, bringing him to his knees.

I blinked a few times… and everything went black.

Chapter Thirty-Two

ELLA

My eyes fluttered open to a bright light that warmed my face. For a moment, I wondered if this was Heaven. Had that asshole gotten the best of me, and if so, would I see my mother here?

I dreamed of the day we would meet again. Some days, I wished more than anything those men had killed me, too, so we could be together. But when I opened my eyes, sunlight crept into the room through the half-open curtains.

I sat up with a pounding headache, my skull on fire, and a gross taste in my mouth. The room spun around me several times before I finally found my center. Why did I feel like I had the worst hangover of my life?

A knock on the door snapped me back to reality, my heart thumping faster in my chest. I tossed the covers aside, but the door flew open before I could answer.

My father stood in the entryway, dressed in black and adjusting his cufflinks. His eyes flicked around the room in disgust as he surveyed the walls filled with my art. He never understood my passion and thought drawing was a waste of time. Women like me would end up as Mafia brides, anyway. So, he didn’t see the point in me learning any skills or trying to better myself.

“About time,” Dad said as he entered the room, hands shoved into his pockets. “You’ve been asleep for two days.”

“Really?” I hopped off the bed and yawned. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

If he hadn’t told me, I would have guessed I was passed out for a few hours.

“What day is it?” I reached for my cell phone out of habit, but it wasn’t on my nightstand.

“Looking for this?” Dad held up my cell phone and shook his head. “While you were sleeping, Aiden and Alex wouldn’t stop calling and texting. You lied to me about that girl. She’s a Wellington. And so is the boy you’ve been sneaking around with.”

Shit.

I was supposed to sleep at Aiden’s house after the Beacon Bay Benefactors Ball on Saturday night. Alex was going to cover for me. They must have thought I was the biggest bitch. And now… I couldn’t even call them.

My dad cocked his arm back like he was throwing a football, and the phone sailed across the room. It hit the wall behind my headboard with a thump. I rushed over to pick it up, seeing the screen cracked and busted in several places.

“No,” he said as I held it in my hand. “That doesn’t belong to you.”

I curled my fist around the broken device, a scowl in place. “It’s mine.”

---