Page 61 of Among the Sins of my Father

“That will be all!” My father screams.

My body starts to tremble. I can’t help it. I wish I was stronger. I wish I could get to my feet and face him, but I stay huddled, my knees pressed to my chest.

This cell is different from the one I was in. It has a window. There’s a patch of moonlight on the ground, a perfect rectangular shape, mimicking the window. I hazard a look around, and that’s when I see her. Blonde hair highlighted by the moon, making it look like a halo on her head. Naked body, skinny and bruised. Hands bound by rope.

“No,” I whisper.

The girl looks up as my father advances. She tries to push herself into the wall, make herself disappear, but she knows there’s no escape. She shakes her head as he approaches and whispers the same word I am.

“No.”

Tears fall as my father strokes her hair. And then she lifts her eyes, meeting mine across the room. I see myself reflected in her gaze. We’re mirror images of each other, both pressed to the wall in fear, both with scrapes and bruises and cuts. I lift my hand, reaching toward her and she shakes her head, eyes locking with mine.

“This, dear daughter, could be your life.”

The girl whimpers as he runs a finger down her cheek before cupping her chin and tipping it up to face him. There’s something almost gentle in the way he’s touching her. But I know it’s a lie. I know it’s the calm before the storm.

“She hasn’t been here more than a few days, have you, sweetheart? Only just started her training. And judging from the state of her, I’m guessing obedience doesn’t come naturally for this one.” He chuckles and tightens his grip on her chin.

She tries to jerk out of his grasp, but he grabs a fistful of her hair, forcing her head back sharply and bends low to hiss in her ear. “You will do as I fucking say.” As he lets her go, he pushes her down and spits. She starts to sob. “Get on your knees.”

The girl faces away, burying her head against the concrete wall as though she can hide from him.

“Get on your fucking knees!” the monster roars. When she doesn’t comply, he starts to undo the buckle of his belt, tugging the leather through the loops of his pants.

I’ve seen this part before.

I’ve dreamed this part before.

I know what’s coming.

“No!” I pull myself to my feet. “Don’t you fucking touch her!”

The monster turns his gaze to me, lifting his brows. “Watch, my daughter. Watch and be fucking grateful it isn’t you.”

I scream as I race toward him, shoving him to the ground and clambering on top of him, fists, knees, and feet thrashing, attempting to hurt him. My screams are primal as I lose control, lashing out in any way I can. The girl stares wide-eyed as I scratch my nails down his cheek, blood pooling in their wake.

“Help me!” I beg her.

She shakes her head as the echo of the guards’ footsteps sound down the corridor. Metal clangs against metal but I don’t stop. I barely register what I’m doing as I thrash and flail, beating my fists against any part of him I can. He cowers beneath me, attempting to save his face from my disjointed attack. My throat tears as sounds I didn’t know I could make are ripped from my mouth.

And then hands are on me, dragging me back. I twist and turn, attempting to escape their vice-like grip, but I can’t. I’m held in place as my father lifts himself from the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He stares at the smear of blood and then back at me.

A shudder runs through me at the coldness behind his eyes. The devil is reflected in them. He walks forward, breath labored, and stands in front of me. I struggle against the guards but there is no hope of escape. My father punches me in the gut and pain radiates through my side. The breath leaves my lungs and I fold over on myself, the only thing stopping me from collapsing is the grip of the guards.

When I lift my eyes again, the monster smirks. “Now, my daughter, you will watch, and you will be fucking grateful it isn’t you.” He wraps the end of his belt around his wrist.

I’ve had nightmares about the cruelty my father inflicts on others, but I’ve never been witness to it. But now, I’m trapped, forced to watch as the monster is unleashed.

chapter twenty-three

HOPE

“You’re afraid of getting hurt.”

Barrett is staring at me as I lay where he deposited me on the mat on the gym floor. A fine layer of sweat covers my body. My muscles ache. My breathing is labored with exertion. He’s been training me in self-defense techniques, something he insisted on before teaching me how to handle a knife.

“Of course I’m afraid of getting hurt.” I sit up and cross my legs, using my hands to prop myself from behind. “Who actually wants to get hurt?”

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