Page 116 of Not Your Little Girl Anymore

I’m trapped. I’m my father’s prisoner.

This is unbelievable.

I can feel the muscles in my jaw quiver, and I turn so Dad doesn’t notice. I limp my way to the stairs and into my room, making sure to look at the knob. Sure enough, he changed the door handle… if he locked this door, I’d need a key to get out.

I close the door slightly, leaving it propped open just in case. Tears well up in my eyes, but my mouth drops as soon as I see my room.

My father removed everything… the walls are completely bare, with nothing but holes from nails and screws. My desk is gone, my vanity… gone. There is only my bed and dresser.

The tears fall heavy. But the sorrow I have been overwhelmed with has become a seething anger bubbling beneath the surface.

He’s ripping everything away from me, and I demand to be set free.

I need to be free from this monster and away from whatever hold he thinks he has over me.

Heavy footsteps come from the hallway. My hands clench into fists, praying he doesn’t bother me. I listen carefully. The door to his room closes, but it doesn’t take long for it to reopen.

I release the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding in as I hear his heavy footsteps fade back down the stairs.

I’m not sure how long I stand in my room in disbelief, but I manage to eventually pull myself together and open the door. Tiptoeing is much easier since I still can’t put full pressure on my bad foot. I take a small peek into his room, noting that Dad placed his gun on his dresser.

I could pluck it up quickly and hold onto it for protection.

Right before my foot moves over the threshold my father calls my name from the living room. My heart immediately picks up the pace.

“Yes, Dad?” I call from the top of the stairs.

“I have a few things we need to go over. Could you come down?”

My eyes narrow at the incredible shift in his tone. It’s lighter, less angry. And now, I’m entirely confused. Not wanting him to be full of rage, I do what he asks and limp down the stairs, keeping some weight off my foot. When I get into the living room, Dad is sitting in his recliner with a stack of papers. He flips through them aimlessly, a pen in his hand as he signs whatever is on the papers.

I clear my throat, keeping my distance in case his personality flips the switch again. “Where is all my stuff?” That’s not the question I should have asked right away, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Your belongings are a privilege in this house. If you want them back, you must earn them.”

I bite my tongue so I don’t say anything stupid, but the words roll off the tip anyway. “I don’t even want to be in this house. I don’t want to be anywhere near you!”

He moves his head up but doesn’t turn around to look at me. I can see the tight pinch of his lips as he nods his head.

“I understand you are upset with me, but it is for your own good.”

God, I’m getting a headache.

“How is taking all of my things for my own good?”

“They are items that you can earn as long as you obey me. I lost your mother, and I refuse to lose you, too.” He keeps his voice steady.

My eyebrows shoot to my hairline at his unbelievable statement. “You lost my mother? Are you sure you didn’t fucking kill her. Everything points to you!”

He lets out an evil chuckle and pinches the bridge of his nose before standing up. “You’re mistaken, my sweet daughter. I did not kill your mother.” He takes a step toward me, a cruel smirk on his face. I back up as far as I can go, but my back clashes with the wall. “Do you remember my buddy, Brandon?”

I shake my head, not having any idea who Brandon is.

“Oh, come on. You saw him briefly at the station.” He cocks his head, clicking his tongue. “Anyway, he killed your mother. Didn’t think I could handle it myself knowing I had you to protect and all. It was simple, actually. One little phone call, he was at my feet doing exactly what he was ordered to do.”

I swallow. The horrid vision forcing its way into my mind. “You… you ordered him to kill your wife?”

He chuckles. “I ordered him to give your mother a slow, painful death. He dragged his knife through her stomach and cut out her insides. I watched her until she took that final breath. I needed to make sure the job was done, and she paid for what she did to me.”

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