Page 34 of Escape From Me

I was pretty powerless, that was clear. As I clenched my fists, I remembered the phone in the one. Gang or not, I had never been a prisoner. He left with little argument, but he’d said that it had all been my choice. If he’d been using me, was there any chance that he’d have done any of the above?

I didn’t even know. I didn’t have any references as to what love felt like. I swallowed. Love? Was this even close to that?

Could someone really have love at first sight? Something had felt so right with Zeid, but Judge Hart? How much older than me was he even? It didn’t matter. The idea of marrying him? Not appealing.

My job, just to marry him. Keep my legs shut?

My stomach turned sour, acid burning its way along my throat. I kept my voice low, but I couldn’t keep it all inside anymore.

“If I marry him, father, what? Will you finally be proud of me? Will I finally be enough? Will I finally be useful?”

I literally dug my heels into the soft grass and pulled my father back. I glared up at the man I’d never worshipped. I never saw him as my hero. I’d never seen him as anything but a monster. But right now? Maybe there was only so much my brain was willing to take.

“Daisy, shut your mouth. What has gotten into you?”

I wasn’t sure what my face looked like, but the numb, dead feeling slowly creeping into my soul had me finding a new strength.

“That man has gotten into me, father. Your useful little Daisy is all wilted and stained now. What will the judge think?”

My father’s grip tightened, but I no longer cared about the pain. Not in the way he thought I should, and maybe an hour ago, a day ago, a week ago, I might have cried and gave in, but today’s Daisy?

I still held my phone in my free hand, but what would I do with it?

My father was already looking away, searching the small gathering for something, and I glanced down at my cell and hit the phone icon. There, front and center, was the namePrince Asshole,and I smirked.

“At least you’re smiling. You look plain when you’re disobedient.”

I rolled my eyes, but my father had already looked away again because there would always be something else more important than me, wouldn’t there?

I clicked onPrince Assholeto start a text, stopping when my father looked back at me. I clicked on the voice memo the second his mouth opened. Maybe I could make it up to Zeid if my father ever said anything helpful, and at the least I could have proof that I wasn’t crazy. My father hated me. And that would fuel me whenever the guilt tried to wiggle into my desperate heart. Win-win.

“I’ve made my decision. You will go with the judge today. Your mother already has the wedding planner working for a wedding next week. You’re his problem now.”

I clicked off the voice message recording and sent it. What would he do with that information? Ride in on a white horse and crash the wedding? I snort-laughed. No. I could see him coming in on a bike and maybe he’d use that gun. A shiver ran down my spine at the idea of seeing him come to my rescue.

Maybe he would come now. But I knew that was stupid. I’d told him to leave. The cemetery was calm. Death seemed calm, didn’t it? Perhaps life was sad, but in death, you no longer had to fear much of anything. Pain shot up my arm as daddy dearest yanked me to stand straight, pulling me to the chair in the front that would make for a great photo in the papers. I scanned the crowd, still trying to figure out where he’d disappeared too.

A pastor stood to the side, quietly waiting. It wasn’t long until Judge Raymond Hart sat next to me, his hand on my thigh. The way my stomach instantly turned when he touched me told me that I wasn’t just desperate for someone’s touch, I was desperate for Zeid’s touch. With him things felt perfect, and here? Now I knew nothing with him had been fake. My soul had realized who I was meant for. And I’d sent him away. Who knew a guy who ran a gang could have more manners than a senator?

I intently pinched my would-be fiancé’s index finger between two of my nails, letting them bite into his skin as I pulled his hand away.

His hand came right back. The pastor started to speak and some police came up with a flag, but the entire time, I kept playing remove the pervert’s hand until I grew tired of the game. Until his fingers squeezed tighter and tighter and I knew there would be bruises.

I stroked his fingers and then the back of his hand before leaning closer to him, close enough that I knew he would hear me.

“Your hand is resting where another man’s hand was hours ago. His come is still dripping between my thighs.”

His nostrils flared, so I knew he’d heard me. Good.

His hand twitched, and for a moment I thought he’d remove it. Instead, he seemed to flex his fingers before deciding to grip my thigh hard enough it made my father’s punishing hold seem soft. I could have squirmed or cried, but then I thought of Zeid and how the pain of the way he fucked me brought me pleasure. A pleasure I’d never imagined, leaving me craving him. The judge’s grip had me thinking of a man that had me growing wet all over again.

The pastor was still talking when Raymond leaned toward me, and I went back to the one thing that I could control. I hit record on my phone without much thought. There were no rules anymore. I’d followed rules for so long and life had passed me by. They were always someone else’s rules, and I was done. It was my turn to live. My turn to create new rules, and rule number one was stop trusting the monsters that hide behind fancy masks and trust a man that my own boogieman hated.

“Listen here, Daisy. You are just a pussy. Holes for me to fuck. I will make sure that I am the only man you remember. I will make you obey me. I will break you.”

No one noticed his threats. No one even looked at us. His voice was so quiet I had barely heard it.

My heart wanted to beat through my ribs, but I refused to show anything. One rule I would keep was to never show your weakness. They liked that. They liked power, and I wouldn’t give that to them.

---