Page 42 of Dolly

After all the pain he’s given me, the sleepless nights, the nightmares, the fear—he wants mercy.

“Ken.” I touch his shoulder. “Let me?” I keep my voice low. Daddy doesn’t own me anymore.

Ken nods and climbs off of Daddy, kneeling beside him and giving me the room I need.

“You hurt me,” I say to him, moving down to my knees. His blood soaks through my pants, the warmth spreading over my skin. “You’re a bad man.” I grip my knife with both hands. He’s hurt and bleeding too much. Leaving him now would mean certain death. But I’m not done yet. He has to know what he did. He has to know he lost.

“You’re a bad man. But I’m a good girl.” I raise my knife and jam it in his chest, then lean forward, putting my weight on the handle until it slides into his chest all the way up to the hilt. “See, I told you I learned my anatomy.” I could have made it hurt. I could have tortured him. But that would make me like him.

And I won’t let him win.

I’m a good girl.

Eighteen

KENDOLL

“Do you think we’re going to hell?” Dolly’s question makes my fingers still over the keyboard.

She’s standing in the doorway of her father’s office, the soft glow from the bathroom throwing her expression into the shadows. I’m in a hurry. We need to get what we can off his computer—bank information, contacts, any other videos—and clear out of the house. It’s nearly three in the morning. People are going to start getting up for work soon.

But her question freezes me. She’s strong. I don’t worry that she’ll crumble beneath the weight of what we’re doing, but those were her parents. This is her home. She’s bound to question our actions.

“Come here.” I crook my finger at her. She shuffles to me, her feet in new shoes, dressed in black leggings and a button-down plaid blouse.

“I know we have to go,” she says, eyeing the computer in front of me. I take her hands and squeeze them between my fingers.

“We have a little time.”

“I’m not scared,” she defends. “My thoughts are running around in circles.”

“What can I do to help?” I run my thumb over her knuckles.

“Can I just sit here with you?”

“Of course.” I push back to give her room to sit on my lap. Instead of climbing onto me, she sinks to the floor next to me and folds her legs beneath her. Resting her head on my leg, she sighs. A calm runs through me at the weight of her on me as I run my fingers over her temple, stroking her while I go back to looking through the files on the hard drive.

It will be easier to copy them all and dive deeper back at the motel. I open the drawers of the desk until I find a flash drive and plug it into the computer. Her father was old school—no laptop to be found. He had the video playing on a disc in her room, where are the others?

I keep stroking Dolly’s soft hair while taking in the rest of the office. He’d keep them close, not scattered throughout the house. If she wasn’t allowed in here, and he seemed to be a man who liked his own space, he probably kept everything in one spot—in this room.

The bookshelves are lined with hardcover texts from floor to ceiling. Other than the desk, there is no other furniture in the room. It really is meant only for him. A door blends into the wall with the same dark paneling. If the hinges weren’t visible, it would go unnoticed.

I pat Dolly’s head. “I have to get up for a second, honey.”

She straightens and turns her wide eyes up at me.

“I want to check out the other room.” I point toward the door, and her gaze follows my finger.

With a crinkled brow, she shrugs. “It’s probably just a closet.”

I’m sure she’s right, but it’s what’s in the closet I want. I stand from the chair and step over her. When she starts to get up, I motion for her to stay where she is. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to find, and she doesn’t need any more grotesque surprises.

The door makes no sound when it swings open. I feel up the inside wall for a switch and turn on the light, illuminating a walk-in closet lined with shelves. Stepping inside, my blood runs cold. Compact discs, hundreds of them, line the shelves.

I slide one out.

Gabby – age six

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