Page 8 of The Rivals' Touch

It’s after nine when I hear their car leave our driveway. I steel myself as my father’s feet thunder up the stairs. The door slams open, crashing against the wall. He strides toward me in three big steps and punches me in the ribs.

Over the years, he’s learned to hide his violence.

I cry out in pain and fall to the floor, but his assault doesn’t stop there. He kicks me in the back before grabbing my arm and throwing me onto the bed. “You dare defy me like that and make a fool out of me at dinner?” Another punch. “You ungrateful bitch!”

Tears stream down my cheeks as pain sears through my body. “I’m sorry!”

He grabs a handful of my hair. “You will cheer for Aycliffe High, and you will be the best damn cheerleader the team has ever seen! Understood?”

When I don’t reply, he lowers his zipper and sticks his hand inside his pants.

Panic surges through me, and I scramble back on the bed. “I understand! I promise, I won’t let you down!”

“Come here!”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Dad, please, no.”

He crawls after me on the bed and flips me onto my stomach. I don’t fight when he pulls my dress up above my hips and rips off my panties. It’s been years since the first time he forced himself on me, and I quickly learned that he likes it when I fight. It awakens the sadist in him.

“Sshh!” he soothes, his nose in my hair, his hand on my bare hip. “You understand why I have to punish you, right?”

I nod, staring at the door. It’s ajar.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but you leave me no choice when you defy me.”

“I’m sorry!”

He grabs the headboard and grunts in my ear. “I know you are. Good girl. Ssshh! No more tears.”

I will kill him one day. I’m going to stab him and never stop. I’ll decorate the walls with his blood and lick it off my fingers.

“What are you going to do?” he breathes in my ear, his fingers digging into my hip. The headboard rocks against the wall.

“I’m going to cheer for Aycliffe High.”

He lets go of my hip and strokes my hair off my wet cheeks. “Good girl!”

* * *

Bennett’s lips are hot on my neck. The fluorescent light flickers above the bathroom stall. When he tries to lower my zipper, I stop him. I’m still sore from the night before. “Not now.”

He groans against the crook of my neck. “Babe, why the fuck not? It’s been days!”

Tears sting my eyes, and I blink rapidly. I don’t want him to see me cry and ask questions.

He leans back and sweeps his blue eyes over my face, but he’s too horny to see the pain behind the mask. His lips descend on mine. “I need you, babe!”

The door opens, and I stiffen as footsteps approach the nearby urinals. Bennett, undeterred, cups my sore sex and nibbles on my jaw with his teeth. The fluorescent light flickers again as I stare at it. I’m numb. It usually takes me a few days to feel again after one of my father’s attacks.

The sound of someone urinating echoes in the small bathroom, but Bennett doesn’t care. His fingers are back on my zipper.

“Good girl!” he whispers in my ear when I don’t stop him this time, but his words cause my body to freeze up.

What a good girl you are!

I shove him away, but he smiles and steals another kiss, oblivious to my distress. I grapple with his belt and buttons. Distraction is my best option. I don’t want to explain to him why my pussy is sore.

I shove my hand in his jeans and wrap it around his big cock, jerking him hard and fast.

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