Page 52 of Saving Little Clark

"You think you can just dismiss me?" he snarled, stalking forward with single-minded intent. "Think you can throw away everything we had, everything I did for you, and walk away unscathed?"

Cold dread pooled in my gut, every instinct screaming at me to run, hide, get away. But my legs refused to cooperate, rooted to the spot in terror.

It was then, as he advanced on me with predatory grace, that I noticed it, the glint of metal at his hip, peeking out from beneath the hem of his jacket.

"Sterling," I stammered, hating the way my voice shook. "Why do you have a gun?"

His face twisted into something ugly, a sneer of pure, unhinged malice. "Insurance," he bit out. "In case you decided to be difficult. In case you forgot your place and needed a little reminder of who's really in control here."

Christ, how had I not seen it sooner? The depths of his obsession, the true darkness lurking beneath that polished veneer?

An image flashed through my mind again. Sterling, drunk off his ass. He'd been inconsolable that night, pacing and ranting and downing enough whiskey to fell a horse. Terrified and confused, I'd stayed up with him until the wee hours, listening in mute horror as he spilled every grisly detail of the man he'd murdered a decade prior.

The neighbor who'd caught him cheating on his wife with a man, who'd threatened to expose his sordid indiscretions tothe world. The man whose life he'd snuffed out like a candle, all to protect his own miserable, selfish existence.

And if I didn't find a way out of this, and fast, I had a sinking feeling I'd be his next victim.

"Sterling, please. You don't want to do this. This isn't you, okay? We can talk, figure this out--"

"No!" The word exploded out of him, so loud and sudden I flinched back instinctively. "No more lies and stupid fucking mind games, Clark. You're coming with me, and you're gonna shut your fucking mouth and be grateful I'm willing to forgive you after the shit you've pulled."

His hand drifted to the gun at his hip, and I forgot how to breathe. This was it. This was how I’d die - not in Daddy's arms like I'd always imagined, old and gray and surrounded by a lifetime of memories. But here, now, at the hands of a man I'd once trusted with my heart and soul.

Daddy's face flashed through my mind, warm and loving and brimming with pride. The way he'd held me after my first real sub-drop, murmuring praise and reassurance into my hair as I shook apart in his arms.

"I've got you,"he'd promised, over and over, an unshakable vow."You're so brave, so perfect, and I'm never letting you go."

Tears stung my eyes, grief and longing a dull ache in my chest. God, what I wouldn't give to be back there now. To be safe in my Daddy's embrace, cherished and protected, instead of trapped in this waking nightmare.

Chapter 22: Clark

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Sterling. I'd rather die than spend one more second under your thumb."

Rage contorted his features into something monstrous, barely human. With a wordless snarl, he lunged, one hand clamping around my throat while the other fumbled for his weapon.

"You stupid bitch," he spat, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "I tried to do this the easy way, but you just had to push it."

The cold bite of metal pressed against my jugular, and my pulse kicked into overdrive, a hummingbird beat of sheer, animal panic. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, every sensation magnified - the rasp of my labored breathing, the acrid stench of Sterling's fury.

This was really happening. This was how my story ended, in blood and violence and the cruel mockery of a love I'd never truly had. Tears spilled down my cheeks unchecked, a final, futile act of defiance.

In that endless, crystallized moment, I let my eyes slip shut. Let myself drift away from the horror and the fear, to a place of warmth and safety and soul-deep belonging.

I saw Alex, eyes sparkling with mirth as he chased me through the park, our laughter ringing out high and bright. Felt the sun on my face, the grass beneath my bare feet, the unbridled joy of just existing, wild and free and perfectly in tune.

I saw Daddy, haloed in golden morning light, his smile soft and sleep-rumpled and so full of love. Heard his voice, low and rumbly with laughter, as he pulled me close and nuzzled intothe curve of my neck, whispering endearments into my skin like prayers.

Hot tears streaked my cheeks, grief and longing a dull ache in my chest.

It wasn't fair.The heartbroken thought rattled around my head like a pinball as the blade pressed closer, Sterling's grip like an iron vice around my throat.

It wasn't fair that I'd fought so hard, come so far, only to have my happy ending ripped away by the cruel twist of a knife. That my found-family was going to have to pick up the pieces and forge on without me, their smiles dimmed by the specter of my loss.

It wasn't fair that Daddy - sweet, loving, endlessly patient Daddy - was going to have to identify my body and plan my funeral instead of walking down the aisle with me. That I'd never get to introduce him to the boy I'd been before Sterling, before that toxic shame had sunk its claws in and stolen my light.

But in that terrible, infinite moment, as my lungs burned with the need for air and my vision began to black out around the edges, I knew that I'd do it again. Love Daddy, love Alex and our cobbled-together little clan, even knowing this would be the devastating end.

Because it was worth it. The warmth of Alex's hugs, the safety of Brody's arms. Every laugh-filled moment and stumbling step forward and heart stopping confession of love.

---