Page 96 of Truth Or Dare
So I drown it out with music, noise, drugs, alcohol, pain—anything to silence him in my mind.
“You think you can steal from me and I’ll just let it go?”
I freeze, the weight of his flask heavy in my pocket. “What?”
His hand slams against the stair railing, and I flinch backward. Anger boils through me. I hate that he still scares me. I don’t want to be scared of him. I just want to go to bed and sleep. I just want one day in this house when I don’t feelscared.
“You heard me. You’re a fucking little thief.”
My heart bangs against my chest, my heart lodged in my throat. “I just want to go to bed.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” he says, his lip curling as he grips me by the elbow. “You weren’t too tired to do whatever the fuck it was you were doing with that slut.”
I don’t think before I shove him off me, swinging around to face him. “Don’t you dare call her that again.”
I tried. I really fucking tried to be calm, but I can’t. I can’t handle it when he talks about Gabi like that. When any of them do.
When she told me her date called her a slut tonight, my body went red fucking hot, and I just wanted to storm in there and punch his stupid face.
My father’s face lights up, his lips curving as he scoffs out a laugh. He’s enjoying this. This is what he wants. Hewantsme to fight back. “Or what?” he says. “What are you going to do?”
“Christopher?” My mother’s voice freezes me in place. I look up to see her frail form at the top of the staircase, clutching her robe tightly around her. Her eyes widen in terror as she takes in the sight of my father gripping my collar. “What’s going on?”
“Go back to bed,” he spits out. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“It’s four in the morning,” my mom says, her brows furrowing as she looks between us. “Chris. Where have you been, honey?”
“I—”
“Don’t fucking talk to him like he’s innocent,” my father snaps.
My jaw clenches when I see my mom’s face tighten and her arms wrapping around her body even tighter. She’s just as scared as I am.
“Come to bed,” she says in a calm, quiet voice that breaks my heart. She shouldn’t have to be afraid to speak in her own house, to her own son.
But my father’s grip tightens, pulling me closer to him. “He’s not going anywhere.” His hand reaches for my pocket. I don’t move as he grabs the flask out, snarling when he clutches it in his grip. “You steal from me, come home in the middle of the night, and you think you can just go tobed?”
“Christopher. Just… just let him go,” my mother pleads, her voice trembling.
My father’s eyes snap up to my mother. “Shut the fuck up or you’re next.”
My jaw clenches.He’s not fucking touching her. “Leave her out of this.”
“Don’t fucking talk back to me,” he growls, tightening his grip on my collar. “You think you can do whatever you want, huh?” His head tilts as he stares at me, challenging.
I remain silent, staring back at his face, hate boiling through me. I’ve never despised anyone as much as I do him. It kills me that I share his DNA. It kills me that I share his name. And it kills me that my mother chooses to stay with him, despite everything.
He jerks my collar again when I don’t reply. “Speak!”
I exhale sharply through my nose. “You clearly don’t want to hear what I have to say.”
No. What he really wants is to start an argument.
He snarls. “What’s that?”
I give him what he’s after and open my mouth. “I said, you don’t—”
I don’t even finish my sentence before his fist connects with my jaw, sending my head spinning to the side, and blood spurting from my mouth.
