Page 95 of The Wallflower

“None of your business. You’d have to have a conscience to feel any type of guilt, sweetheart. Drew’s been enduring this shit much longer than you’ve been around.” His dark tone is a warning. “Don’t assume I don’t give a fuck about my friend. It might lead you to find yourself in a world of trouble.”

“Fuck off,” I growl and spin on my heels, stalking back to the other entrance.

I’m not going to waste any more time sparring with that asshole. I notice as soon as I cut through the hall that it’s empty.My pulse spikes, and I barely catch sight of the kitchen door swinging open.

Shit.

I rush down the dimly lit corridor, not bothering to stay quiet. I can’t hear much of anything except the heavy beating of my own heart and the ragged breaths entering my lungs. My adrenaline spikes once I reach the end of the hall, and slowly I peek around the corner and into the kitchen. I catch sight of Drew's father holding him down by the neck against the counter. The room is empty, though I imagine there might be someone guarding the door on the opposite side of the room.

Of course a rich man like him wouldn’t want anyone to discover the truth, to see the real monster beneath the perfectly painted mask. His father leans down and whispers something into his ear. Drew’s entire body goes still, a statue cast in pain and anger. Whatever his dad just said hurt him far more than any of the punches.

It’s a good thing I don’t give a fuck about any of their rich asshole bullshit...

CHAPTER 35

DREW

Bitter cold sweeps through me,a numbness if you want to call it that. Though I can already feel the bruise forming on my cheek from where I hit the wall. There’s a table beneath me, but I don’t feel it. All I hear are his words ringing in my ears.

“Did you take a good look at the girl, Drew? She looks like someone you know, doesn’t she? She certainly looks like her whore of a mother, but maybe you recognize someone else there too. I know I recognized it when I saw her back in that hall.”

What the fuck is he implying?I try to push against his hold, but it’s iron. “What are you talking about? How do you know Bel’s mother?”

Then it hits me...like a twenty-pound anvil on my chest. The illness she’s been dealing with her entire adult life, according to the medical records I glimpsed on Bel’s laptop. It’s the same kind of illness my mother has. The doctors have always documented it as cancer or something akin to it.

Leaning into my face, a sickening look fills his eyes, and when he speaks his words, they shatter my existence, the existence he’s been trying to break for years. “She’s your half sister.”

No. That can't be true. No.This is another one of his fucked-up games. It has to be. My stomach twists into a tight knot. Except the eyes. The sparkling green eyes of hers that she hides with her cute little glasses. We both have green eyes; my father has green eyes. I try to tamp down the terror and heartbreak threatening to consume, but I can’t. I’m drowning in it.

No. NO.No.

I slide to the end of the table, and bile rises in my throat. This can’t be true. This can’t be…. before I can even attempt to stop it, I’m vomiting off the side of the counter. All the whiskey I drank earlier to keep myself in check and make the night easier pours across the shiny floor. It’s by the grace of God that I remain standing, that and Father’s hand still clutching me tight.

When the puke splatters across his shoes, he releases me with a curse. I crash into the wall, barely keeping myself upright. “Pull yourself together, Son. It’s sickening, I know, but lucky for you, I saved you from doing something stupid. Like getting that whore pregnant.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” I growl as the copper tang of blood fills my mouth.

I know reacting is nothing more than pouring gasoline on the fire, but I’ve spent my entire life taking his shit. I can’t bear to stand here and listen to him speak so ill about someone he doesn’t even know. The world goes quiet, and I can’t be bothered to move or try to block his attack, so I let him hit me again, his fist slamming into my already tender and swollen ribs. The pain is nothing but a dull ache. It's like I can barely feel it as I sink into myself and forget, float away, try not to focus on anything until it's all over.

After the damage is done, I’ll feel it, but I've learned that if I crawl deep inside that secret place in my mind and simply endure, it’s easier. My father’s image blurs in front of me, and I feel his fingers digging into the back of my neck. He drags meback to the counter and slams my face against the cold marble. My cheek throbs, and fire blazes up the side of my head and into my temple. Warning signals go off in my brain, but I ignore them.

“I should’ve had your mother abort you. I swear you’ve been nothing but a stain on this family since the day you were born, yet you’re the only heir I have that’s worth anything.” He digs his fingers into the back of my neck, squeezing, and then repeats his action from moments ago. Maybe this is where it all ends? I can hear my heartbeat in my ears.Thump. Thump. Thump.

The world around me goes silent, and more blood fills my mouth. It’s all I can taste. Without warning, I’m moving, flying through the air as my father tosses me across the kitchen like a rag doll. With blurry vision, I look down and realize I’m on the floor now, barely missing the spot of vomit.

I want to crawl deep inside my mind and hide there. Wait for this to be all over. No one can save me.Save yourself.A voice echoes through my mind.Protect them. Fight for them. Bel, your mom. Protect them.That voice gives me enough hope, enough strength to climb out of that dark spot in my mind, and even as my body protests against me, I stagger to my feet, anger overriding the self-imposed calm.

My eyes are nearly swollen shut, and my head throbs, a wave of dizziness threatening to pull me back to the floor, but I clench my fist and straighten my spine. "I can’t believe you have the audacity to call yourself a father. You’re nothing to me or her. I wonder what all your friends would think if they discovered the real person beneath the mask? If they found out you sold me to the highest bidder and pimped me out to your client's daughter just because she’s a spoiled brat who has never heard the word no in her life."

As I stand there, another jolt of abject fear hits me. What would he do if he got his hands on Bel? A woman to throwaround and sell to his friends to be used, abused, and discarded. He’s never given a shit about me, and he raised me, but her...he’s spoken five words to her. If this is how he treats someone he supposedly loves, I can only imagine what he will do to her. I have to get a grasp on the situation. Spin it. Keep his focus on me and off her. Just like I do with Mom.

My father sneers, and I hate seeing myself in every twitch of his face. Will this be me one day? Taking out my pain on the rest of the world? Hurting those I love for the hell of it? God, I hope not.

"Your only goddamn job is to listen and obey me!! Now fucking listen." He crosses the room in a flash, his hand circling my throat, his long fingers digging into my flesh. For an old man, he’s strong as shit. “AND OBEY!" He screams the words into my face. I don’t so much as blink at the rage he expels upon me.

"What do you want?" I grit out, barely able to draw enough breath to speak. I have to do what I can to keep them safe until I come up with another plan, something better. A way to get rid of him.

"I just told you." He shoves me again, and I crash against the stove, barely catching myself. We stare at each other, and I know that things will get progressively worse if I don’t obey him. There’s no saying he wouldn’t keep me here and send one of his stupid goons to attack Bel, and then we'd all be fucked. I’d be forced to watch, to feel the guilt of bringing her into my life.

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