Page 82 of Provocation (Temptation 3)

“I know…broad strokes.”

“But no details?”

I slowly shook my head. “No details.”

Nodding, as if she’d expected that answer, she spun, walking across the dark brown wood flooring and to the expansive windows overlooking my back yard. I followed, albeit hesitantly, gauging her demeanor.

In the span of a heartbeat, the normal teenage girl transitioned into someone who appeared so much more mature.

So much more jaded.

“We used to play hide-and-seek a lot.”

“You and your mum?”

She lifted her eyes to mine, giving me a subtle shake of her head before peering out the windows once more.

With that one gesture, a chill washed over me. I didn’t have to ask to know about whom she was referring. The distance in her stare said it all.

“Whenever Mama excused herself from whatever we were doing, whether it was shopping, swimming at the community pool, or walking around the county fair, he’d want to play.” She pinned me with a look. “Without telling her.”

My jaw tensed, blood boiling in my veins.

“He’d grab me and hide us out of view. I was young, but it felt wrong. So many times, I wanted to cry out for Mama, tell her where we were. But I was scared of what he’d do to her if I did. So I stayed quiet.”

“And what would happen?”

“He’d play his game.” She looked forward, as if watching a movie playing before her eyes.

Memories no little girl should have had to endure.

“He’d have this strange look on his face as he watched Mama panic. And not just a little panic, like you did earlier when you saw me at your front door. This was a full-fledged panic attack. Crying, screaming, begging anyone to help her find me. And through it all, he kept his hand over my mouth, hushing me if I made so much as a whimper. When he did reappear with me, he’d make it sound like she wasn’t right in the head. That he’d told her where we went. That her reaction was completely unwarranted. It made her doubt her own sanity.”

My nostrils flared as I clenched and unclenched my fists, fighting the urge to punch a wall. I refused to show Imogene anything remotely resembling violence, though.

It was one thing to listen to Julia talk about Nick’s ability to manipulate. But to listen to Imogene recall her memories of some of the twisted games he played made me wild with rage.

Made me want revenge, regardless of the price I’d pay to get it.

“I was too young to fully understand, but I do now. I know why he did it. Not to scare her or force her to make a scene…”

“To control her,” I breathed.

Imogene nodded. “Everything he did was to control her. To remind her of the power he held. To remind her if she stepped out of line, that if she even thought about leaving him, he’d take away the one thing she cared about most in this world.” She smiled sadly. “Me.”

“I want to kill him,” I seethed before I could stop the words from leaving my mouth. “I’m sorry, Imogene. I know he’s your father, but—”

“Wrong,” she interjected, glaring over her shoulder at me. “He’s my sperm donor.” Her words came out with a determination I doubted I had at her age. “He lost the right to consider himself my father before I was even born.”

She floated her gaze out the window once more, focusing on the reflection of the sun in my pool.

“Mama’s always shielded me from everything to do with him. Maybe she thought if she did, I wouldn’t remember how bad it was. I may not remember everything, but I haven’t forgotten his games.” She swept her eyes back to mine, tilting her head. “But despite all that, do you know what memory stands out amongst them all?”

“What’s that?”

“At night, after he’d play one of his games, Mama would always sneak into my room, crawl into bed with me, hold me close, and sing.”

“What did she sing?”

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