Page 93 of Not Your Little Girl Anymore

My father’s deep laugh echoes in my ears as I still try to catch my breath.

“Is this true, Raleigh?” the man asks.

“Now, why would I dare kill my daughter? They were fighting. I tried to break them up.”

What? No. That’s not true. I want to fight it. I want to tell the man what really happened, but I can’t. My throat is sore. My voice is nearly gone.

“You’re lying!” Alec shouts.

“Let’s go, Raleigh.” The man’s arm goes around my father’s back, guiding him from the room. Then he turns toward Alec and me. “You both need to leave right now. We will sort this out.”

I turn my head slowly, my vision slowly coming back. All I see is my father being dragged from the room, his eyes wild and unrepentant. A smile wildly on his face.

As soon as they’re no longer in sight, Alec shuffles my way. His warm hands come up to my face, and I close my eyes, swallowing as much as I can.

“You OK?”

My eyes open, falling to the top of his head where he has a large cut. “You’re… you’re bleeding.”

Alec’s hand touches the top of his head. Red crimson coats two of his fingers. “I’ll be fine. Are you OK?”

I shake my head because no, I’m not OK.

And I don’t think I ever will be.

Chapter Thirty-five

Alec

“Do you think they will let everything slide? He assaulted me. Pointed a gun at you,” Summer whispers.

My blood heats the more I think about how after what her father had done, we were the ones escorted out of the police station.

I look at Summer, she’s holding back the urge to break by the way her voice shakes. It pains me that she has to worry about whether her father is going to be scolded for his actions or if it’ll be brushed aside like the other crimes he’s committed.

“I hope not.” I killed the ignition after parking in front of my apartment. We never discussed if she was coming back here, but I’d assume as much. She can’t go back to where her father sleeps after what just happened.

We both get out of the car at the same time. I jog around the front end, where Summer sighs and leans against the back door.

“But, say it does get pushed aside,” I tug my phone out of the front pocket of my jeans, sliding my finger to unlock it. The screen is exactly where I left it when we pulled out of the police station parking lot. “I have this.”

I extend my arm with the phone in my hand, passing it to Summer. Her eyes narrow, and she hesitates to take it from my hand. I can’t blame her. She had no idea of my plan. She glances down at the screen, and it takes her a few seconds to register anything.

“What is this?” she asks, looking back at me.

“Push play.”

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth and rocks slightly on her toes. Grabbing the phone, her thumb floats above the play button before she has enough courage to press down.

Relief and satisfaction slam into me as the voices play over. I watch Summer’s expression change drastically. Her eyes widened, bringing two of her fingers slowly to her lips.

Her eyes drift back to mine, baffled. “You… you recorded everything. How?”

My lip quirks upward, and I shrug. “It was easy. I started it before we even walked into his office.”

She doesn’t say anything. Instead, she looks back down at the screen and listens to the recording carefully. Her features morph into sadness.

“I wasn’t positive if it’d work. Granted, it’s slightly muffled, but it’s clear enough,” I continue.

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