Page 95 of Sawyer
“Yeah, well, I took out a life insurance on myself.”He has a smart-ass smirk on his face, making my stomach churn.
“What?”How did he manage that when he’s one of the dumbest people I know?
“Got a pretty penny too.Three hundred thousand…”
My breath gets caught in my chest.
“Had a pretty good lifestyle, haven't I, Dad?Living in Vegas for a while, road tripping to the coast and back.”He grins at his father, who just huffs a laugh and nods.I look at his dad again, remembering the clothes he was wearing the other night at the bar, the nice appearance now making more sense.He’s got money now.From his son faking his own death.
While I’ve been counting every penny for years, looking after the kids, working late on the soaps, this asshole has been living on hundreds of thousands of dollars.
“So if you're so rich, what are you doing back here, then?”I bite out.
“Well, money only goes so far… Besides, I heard pretty quickly about your new rich boyfriend.And well… you know I’ve never liked sharing… You’re mine, Annabelle.Always was, always will be.”He looks me over, and I think I vomit a little in my mouth.“You don’t belong to anyone else but me, you hear that?”
It’s always like this with him.He may not want me, but he sure as hell doesn’t want anyone else to.It all starts to make sense now.What Kevin was saying.Every time Sawyer was here, something would happen.My eyes flick to Stanley.He was obviously Steve’s eyes and ears for years.Only now that Sawyer has turned up in my life has Steven bothered to come back.Not to see his sons, not to spend time with them or get to know them.No, he’s back because he wants to own me.
Too bad I’m not for fucking sale.
“You’re dead!”
“Yeah, on paper I am, but in life, you’re still mine, and no other man is going to be sleeping with my wife and fathering my kids,” he shouts back at me, and my insides coil.
“You were never a father and sure as hell were never a lover,” I spit at him, and he takes a step toward me.I flinch a little, but his slap never comes.He looks at me like he’s just thought of something.
“You were always worthless and still are… Maybe I need to take some sort of payment from him to ensure I stay away from you, then…” Ah, his real intentions.Blackmail.
“Payment?”I question."What, now that I’ve finally found happiness, now that I’m finally making things work, you want to come back here and take it all again?”I huff out a sarcastic laugh, which just pisses him off even more.
“You always got everything.Me, nothing but stress, bills…”
The audacity of this asshole.
“Bills you created yourself, putting bets on horse racing and giving your money away to slot machines over in Williamstown.”
I don’t see his fist as it flies from his side and straight into my jaw.I fall backward, my head hitting the gravel.My head now thumps even harder, and I wiggle my jaw, wondering if he broke it.
“You always acted better than me.”Stepping back, he looks around before bringing his attention back to me.
“That's because I am,” I say to him as I sit forward, readying to stand.If this son of a bitch is going to kill me, he’s going to do it when I’m standing on my own two feet, on the land my parents and grandparents owned.
“No, you're not.You’re fucking stupid.”
As I stand up, my head feels like a bowling ball, making my top half almost too heavy for my legs to hold up.My feet stagger a little, knees wobbling.
“Why?”I ask, trying to give myself time for my vision to clear.
“Because, when I hit you, you should've stayed down, you fucking bitch.”His fist comes back around, landing on my cheek with such force, it lifts me from my feet, but not before I reach out, scraping my nails across his cheek, clawing at him with every bit of strength I have left.
I lie on the gravel, his father watching like he’s bored already.But I see his eyes flicking around.Watching.Waiting.
“We need to go, son…” his father says, but my husband is too far gone.He wants power over me, and I’m not letting him have it.
“Go?Oh, so soon… we were just getting started…” I moan as I grip my head, not showing any weakness.I think of my two boys inside, praying they’re still asleep, praying they don’t find me here in the morning.
“Shut the fuck up!”Steve yells as his foot lands in my side, the impact making me vomit.I curl onto my side, heaving and trying to breathe through the pain.Opening my eyes, I spot the baseball bat on the ground near the shed, so I moan some more, rolling over to it and grabbing it underneath my body.
“Steve, we need to go,” his father says, looking antsy.
