Page 37 of Love Fire

He interrupts me. “I gave you enough time. It’s not in the cards for me to do it.”

“Please! Just tell my father that something came up. Anything, but please give me more time!”

“Don’t raise your fucking voice, little girl.”

He raises his hand to slap me, but doesn’t. It’s not that he’s too fond of me to do it. Rather, he does it as a threat. When I got in trouble as a child, he’d do the same thing.

Despite knowing that, I still flinch. My tears fall on the floor. It brings back memories when I would try to defend myself from my father. It always ended like this same position, but for different reasons.

I sniffle. “I promise this will be the last time I ask. A lot of things have happened and I couldn’t do what you asked me to.”

He frowns. “Yeah. You’ve been shacking up with that Draconis Fire agent for too long, when you should be focused on the trafficking you’re supposed to be doing.”

I grit my teeth. I don’t want to be doing that anymore. I’ve hurt too many people already. But I have to continue.

What else am I supposed to do while being stepped over like dirt?

My voice breaks. “I know,” is all I can say.

I’m so weak. Even if I have all the power in the world, I’ll always be weak under my father’s control. I just want to survive his cruelty.

“Are you sure about that? I don’t know how many times I had to fucking repeat it to you.”

I swallow hard, “I know. I’ll do my best.”

He scoffs. “Your best? Your father’s wishes aren’t only that – they’re commands and you’d do well to remember that.”

Yes. Everything that comes out of Torres Vincent’s mouth is a command. My siblings and I learned that from a very young age. Too young, actually,

He pulls me up by the wrist with brute force. “I warned you too many times, Erin.”

My knees are weak and I can’t stand up straight. He holds me up like a string of wet thread. His scowl is all I can see.

“Now, there WILL be consequences.”

He shoves me against the wall as the last threat. My head hits against the cement hard enough to hear an echo. I fall to the floor holding my head. My vision blurs.

I should be used to this kind of treatment. The wounds are always fresh, though. I won’t be surprised when I have a nosebleed.

I stand up, staggering against the wall. Hank doesn’t give me a second look. He leaves me here in my misery. To think about what I did wrong.

The door slams. I want to throw up. I can feel my heartbeat in my throat. The first indicator that something bad is going to happen.

What is Hank going to do? He left too fast this time. He walked out of here as if he had business to take care of. Is Brent in danger?

God, please don’t do this to me. Brent didn’t do anything. It’s all me. Let me be punished instead.

I stand up and pace around the basement, on the verge of a mental breakdown. Brent’s a light sleeper. Surely, he’ll detect Hank in his territory and take care of him. Right?

Then again, if word comes out of Hank’s disappearance, my father will know about my whereabouts. It’ll put Brent in danger once again. I want to prevent a war from happening.

Hank is not one bit worth it.

I take out my phone and fumble with it. I’ll send Nate a text. He’s my last hope to get out of this mess. There’s a chance he’s too far to come to me, but nothing wrong trying.

I write down the text, asking if he can come help out and offer us protection. I check the recipient to avoid sending it to the wrong person. I never made the mistake but I won’t take any chances.

Before I hit send, I hear gunshots outside.

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