Page 92 of That's Not My Name

“Don’t ignore me, Mary!”

I flinch. “I’m not Mary.”

I don’t mean to say it. The words come out on their own.

They’re a mistake.

Wayne launches himself off the stairs and screams, “Yes, you are! I’m sick of this fucking game. Every time I find you, it’s the same! You need to stop before you take it too far again. You know exactly who you are! You. Are. Mary. Boone.”

Every time I find you…

Oh god. What doesthatmean?

“Say it!” he screams. “Say you’re Mary!”

My mouth is so dry that it comes out like a ghostly croak, “I’m Mary.”

He sits back down on the bottom step and puts his head into his hands again. He lets out a sob that shakes his entire body.

Realization hits like a full body punch.

He really thinks I’m Mary Boone. Heneedsme to be Mary Boone.

His insistence that I’m the quiet girl who stays home and loves her dad, who doesn’t watch, read, or listen to anything inappropriate was all him trying to mold me into her.

Which makes all of this exponentially more terrifying. How do I escape a man who’s unhinged enough to believe I’m his daughter? Whenhe’sthe one who kidnapped me. He’s not only dangerous, he’s delusional.

And…what happened to the real Mary Boone?

“I don’t know what to do with you, Mary,” he mumbles. “Why do you insist on playing this foolish game? Pretending you’re not my daughter so I’ll let you leave for good? You push and you push until I have no choice but to hurt you. Don’t you see? I love you too much to let you ruin yourself.”

Again, I say nothing. I’m too filled with rage. Until he has no choice but to hurt me? Like this is my fault?

“Oh the silent treatment, very mature,” he mutters.

I swipe tears and blood from my face. “I’m not pretending. I just want to go home.”

“You are home!” he roars. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”

I recoil so hard I hit the back of my head against the wall. “Ididn’t do anything!”

He leaps to his feet again. In a blink he’s crossed the room in three long strides and backhands me so hard I fall off the cot onto the floor. I flip my hair out of my face and press my hand to my flaming cheekbone.

“Don’t you raise your voice at me, you little bitch. I won’t be disrespected.” He backs up against the workbench. “I thought we were past this. But clearly you’re incapable of staying on the right path. Maybe all of my efforts were for nothing. Maybe there’s no saving you.”

I’m too scared to make a sound. I don’t know what else will set him off. But saying nothing will—

“Don’t ignore me!” he shouts.

I flinch, and tears fall down my face. “Sorr—” My voice breaks. “I’m so sorry.”

His hands tighten on the workbench, and he walks closer to me again. He takes my arm, touching my skin so gently I can barely feel his fingers. He helps me off the floor and back on the cot.

When he looks at me, his face has gone completely cold and hollow, and it scares me shitless. “I know how sorry you are. Maybe the blame is on me. I shouldn’t have been so lenient. I should have fixed the problem the first time instead of tracking you down, time and time again, trying to beat the evil out of you. But I’ll keep you pure and good if it’s the last thing I do, Mary. I swear it. We’ll do it together this time.”

He stands and stomps up the stairs. I hold my breath until the bottom of his boot disappears, the door shuts, and the basement goes silent.

His words feel lethal. Body-numbing panic grows inside me, but I don’t have time. I scramble to my feet and grab at the chain, trying to yank it from the support pole I know damn well won’t budge. I yank until the metal links cut into my skin, and my hands bleed, and then I yank some more until I’m out of breath and my arms ache.

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