Page 72 of Science Project

When his fist collided with my jaw, I collapsed. My shin scraped against a side table, the edge slicing apart my skin. I grabbed my leg as blood gushed between my fingers, yet I bit back a cry … because Dad would get even angrier if he saw my tears.

He straddled my waist, wrapped both of his hands around my neck, and squeezed harder than he ever had before. Stars danced in my vision from the sudden pressure, and my head was woozy. I reached up and tugged on his wrists.

But he only squeezed harder.

I opened my mouth in an attempt to gasp for air. He took one of his hands off my throat and punched me right in the mouth. My head bounced off the floorboards, and the iron-like taste of blood filled my mouth.

“P-please s-s-stop,” I sputtered out, my vision blurring. “I-I-I’m s-s-s-orry.”

In a weak attempt, I reached for something that I could use as a weapon, as a piece of defense. My fingers feebly wrapped around Dad’s baton that he’d left on the coffee table. I smacked him upside the head with it and scrambled out of his hold.

I need to get out of here. Now.

My head pounded as I crawled away. I used the couch to pull myself to my feet and give myself a running start to the front door. If I could just make it out of the house and scream at the top of my lungs for someone to help … maybe I could escape.

Dad grabbed me by the shirt. I whipped around and went to smack him with the baton again. He caught it halfway to his head and ripped it away from me. I stumbled back onto my ass and tugged on the side table to pull it in front of me.

After tripping over it, he cursed and grabbed my ankle from underneath it. I kicked him in the face with my free leg. Once. Twice. Three times. But he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled me underneath the side table, taking out one of its legs and making it tip over.

The lamp shattered beside me.

I turned onto my hands and knees and crawled. Glass from the lamp sliced into my palms.

But I continued until Dad’s grip on me tightened. And even then I tried to move forward to the front door, thinking about Akio, about having a normal life. If I didn’t get out of here right now, Dad would kill me.

Dad pulled down my cheer skirt. I reached behind myself to pull it back up, to stop him from touching me, from hurting me, from killing me. I finally had something to live for, and I wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

Blood seeped out of my wounds, the glass in my palms piercing me. “Get off me!”

When I kicked back again, Dad captured my ankle in his hand and yanked it all the way back so I fell on my belly. Glass lodged into my stomach and my upper thighs. He crawled up so he straddled my waist with his hips, doing what he could to rip open my clothes just enough…

I struggled underneath him. Desperate to get out. Desperate not to die.

“Dad, stop!” I screamed. Blood covered my thighs. “Please stop!”

Instead of feeling any ounce of remorse for hurting his own daughter, Dad drove all his weight into me. I cried out in pain as his cock stretched out my dry pussy. He began thrusting fast and rough, every single time. My dry pussy stung with every pump.

“Please,” I sobbed, throwing my elbows back. Doing anything. “It hurts.”

He spit in my hair. “You worthless and pathetic bitch.”

After grabbing a fistful of my hair, he slammed my head against the ground over and over until my vision darkened. The last thing that flashed through my mind before I blacked out was that I would never see Akio again.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-NINE

AKIO

Imani sped down the road toward the slums. I stared through the windshield with wide eyes, unable to believe that I had done that in front of anyone. If Imani told Nicole what I was capable of …

My phone had been buzzing in my pocket, but I couldn’t look at it.

Too many thoughts and fears raced through my mind about what had gone down.

“We need to get out of here,” I said, glancing into the rearview mirror. I readjusted my glasses and breathed heavily, chest heaving while I nervously rubbed my hands together. “We can’t stay in this car. We have to ditch it. They’ll be coming.”

“We don’t have time!” Imani said, cutting a corner a bit too sharply.

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