Page 51 of Saving Little Clark

Because there, lurking in the shadows of the porch, was a man who'd once made my life a living hell, who'd shattered my heart and my sense of self so thoroughly I'd doubted I'd ever be whole again.

Sterling.

As if sensing my gaze, his head snapped up, cold eyes locking onto mine through the glass. A slow, cruel smile spread across his face, and I stumbled back with a choked gasp, pulse thundering in my ears.

No, this couldn't be happening. He couldn't be here, not now, not when everything was finally so goddamn perfect.

But before I could fully spiral into panic, the jarring clang of the doorbell echoed through the house, shattering the tense silence and making me jump.

Oh god, he was actually here, on my front step, demanding entry to the safe haven Daddy and I had built together.

With shaking hands, I fumbled my phone out of my pocket, Daddy's contact already pulled up and thumb hovering over the call button. All I had to do was press it, let my Daddy's soothing voice wash over me and remind me that I was safe, cared for, protected.

But in the end, I didn't get the chance. Because in the next instant, the unmistakable click of the lock disengaging rang out, followed by the ominous creak of hinges.

Sterling was inside.

Between one blink and the next, I found myself flying down the stairs, a scream building behind my teeth. I skidded into the foyer just as Sterling was closing the door behind him, that awful, mocking smile still firmly in place.

"Hello, Clark," he drawled, dark eyes raking over me like a physical touch. "Long time, no see."

"What are you doing here?" My voice shook, barely more than a whisper. "How did you even get in?"

Sterling scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Oh please. I've been casing this place for weeks, learning all the ins and outs. Gotta say, I'm impressed. Quite the upgrade from that dingy little apartment I left you in."

Left me. Like he was the one who'd walked out, not the other way around. Like he hadn't driven me to the breaking point with months of manipulation, gaslighting and abuse so insidious I'd barely recognized myself by the end.

But I was stronger now. I'd clawed my way out of the dark place he'd dragged me to, rebuilt myself from the groundup with the help of a man who loved me. A man who'd shown me that I deserved so much more than the scraps of affection Sterling had tossed me.

"You need to leave. Before I call the police and have you arrested for breaking and entering."

But Sterling just laughed, cold and mocking. "Oh, come on, baby. Don't be like that. I came all this way just to see you, to remind you of what we had. What we could have again, if you'd just stop being so stubborn."

He took a step forward, and it took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to flinch back. "Remember Cabo? That weekend on the yacht, just the two of us? God, we were so happy then. So in love. The way you looked at me, like I hung the fucking moon."

For a moment, I remembered it too. The rush of infatuation, the giddy thrill of being wanted by someone so charismatic and self-assured. The way he'd made me feel special, chosen, like I was the only person in the world who mattered.

But then, like a bucket of ice water to the face, I remembered the rest. The drunken rages, the cruel jabs disguised as jokes. The sinking realization that his love was a conditional thing, doled out only when I bent myself into a pretzel to please him.

The way he'd sneered in disgust when he'd found my binky, called me a freak. Like my deepest, most vulnerable needs were something shameful, something to be mocked and reviled.

"You're right," I said, quiet but firm. "We were happy, for a little while. But it wasn't real, Sterling. It was a lie, a manipulation tactic to keep me under your thumb. And I won't let you do that to me again.”

Sterling's eyes flashed, the mask of nostalgia slipping to reveal the ugly rage beneath. "Oh, please. Spare me the self-righteous bullshit. We both know you're nothing without me. Just a pathetic little freak, so desperate for scraps of affection you'll latch onto anyone who shows you the slightest bit of attention. Even a washed-up old man like Brody."

Despite myself, his words stung, an echo of every cruel voice that had ever lived in my head. But I pushed through it, clinging to a different voice - strong and steady and brimming with love.

"You're not broken, sweetheart,"Daddy had whispered to me once, cradling me close while I cried in his arms."You're not a freak or a weirdo or any of the awful things that bastard made you believe. You're perfect, Little one, every single part of you. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure you know that."

And in that moment, wrapped up in his unconditional acceptance, I'd finally started to believe that maybe, I deserved love after all.

"You're wrong," I said calmly. "Daddy's with me because he loves me.”

I took a step forward, feeling my spine straighten, my shoulders unhunch. Sterling actually stumbled back a pace, jaw dropping in shock. And god help me, a vicious thrill of satisfaction zinged through my veins at the sight.

"I'm not that scared, broken boy you used to control anymore," I continued. "Daddy is the best thing that has ever happened to me. He's kind and he loves me, Sterling. Loves me in a way you never did, never could. And nothing you say, no poison you try to drip in my ear, will ever change that."

Sterling gaped at me. His mouth opened and closed silently, fish-like.

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