Page 142 of Dear Rockstar (Dear Rockstar 1)

“Shut up!” He pointed at her, his eyes wild with rage as he slammed my head against the hallway wall again and again, using it as a weapon while he lectured her, until I saw stars. “This little whore needs to be taught a goddamned lesson!”

THUD

THUD

THUD

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!” Dale roared.

The stepbeast ignored the caged tiger in the bathroom, turning his attention to me, his face skewed into a twisted smile as he lifted my face.

“Nice.” He rubbed his thumb through the blood dripping down my chin. “That will make for some good lubrication while you’re sucking my dick, you little whore.”

There was a sound from the bathroom like an oncoming train or a tornado or something even more dangerous. It was an inhuman sound, something from the bowels of the earth, like a demon breaking through to the other side of the world.

THUD

THUD

CRACK!

I heard the door frame giving way, the wood splintering, but I knew it was too late.

I looked up at my stepfather, spitting blood at his face, screaming the words.

“GO TO HELL!”

I knew I was signing my own death warrant, and for once, I really didn’t care. His eyes told me everything I needed to know. This man hated me and was going to kill me. It might be now, it might be someday soon, but it was only a matter of time.

That was when he hit me. His fist connected with my face and my whole cheek lit up. It felt as if the side of my head had exploded. He’d never hit me with a closed fist before, and I had time to marvel at it before he did it again… and again, driving me back into my room. I covered my face with my hands, curling into a ball on the bed, and waited to die.

My mother, screaming, “Stop! Pete, stop it! You’re going to kill her!” was the last thing I heard before everything faded into blackness.

“Your mother called the police?” Aimee squawked.

“Mmm hmm.” I tried to open my eyes again to look at her, but it was just too painful. I could hardly talk, everything felt so swollen.

“But they arrested them both?”

“Water?” It came out “wa-ar” because my consonants still weren’t so great yet. Aimee lifted the cup to my mouth and I sucked on the straw, wincing at the pain—and they had me drugged up pretty good.

“They took them both to jail to sort it out.” John’s voice. I smiled, and that was painful too, but I didn’t care, holding out my hand. I felt his touch, soft and warm, his hand patting mine gently. “They’d both been fighting, and Sara and her mother were passed out cold by then.”

The stepbeast had knocked her out too—that had been her punishment for making the 911 call.

“But Dale’s out now?”

“They kept them overnight and arraigned them, but by that time, Sara’s mom was awake and I had her file a restraining order and make a report with the police, so they let Dale go.”

“Thank God,” Aimee breathed a sigh of relief. “And your dad? They’re keeping him?”

“Until the trial,” John confirmed and I gave a thumbs up with the hand he wasn’t holding. “The prosecutor decided on assault and battery against Sara’s mother, but…”

John’s voice trailed off. I heard him whispering to Aimee, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying. I tried to wave, to get their attention, but my limbs felt so heavy.

“In Sara’s case, they’re looking at attempted murder, since he stabbed her,” John explained.

“He stabbed you?” Aimee gasped.

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