Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
I love you.
It feels like the perfect moment to say it. Instead, we kiss.
“So you’ll stay here?” she asks. “And then what?”
“And then we’ll have to find a way to make him stop.”
“He must be sadistic to go after you all these years later. Listen to me. It’s like I’m talking about somebody else’s dad.”
“He is,” I tell her. “He blames me for his downfall. It all stems from that one moment of disrespect, apparently.”
“Then we have to stop him. I think I have an idea, but you won’t like it. It will mean potentially putting me in danger.”
“No,” I growl. “We can’t do that.”
“Don’t forget you lied to me, Jamie. I understand your reasons, but you still lied. You could’ve told me my dad was alive the second you saw me. You could’ve explained without him knowing, but you lied. Now that I know the truth, I think I have a say in how we deal with it. Don’t I? Since he’s my fucking dad?”
She explodes at the end, full of righteousness and the need to do something actively.
“You’re going to make an amazing mother,” I tell her.
Despite her anger, she smiles.
“Tell me your plan, but I mean it. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Lucy
The next morning, I leave an envelope taped to the rear garden fence. It’s the place I saw Dad climb last night. If he returns, it will most likely be the same place he climbs again. He’ll see the envelope. He’ll read what’s inside.
Dad, help me. Jamie is keeping me against my will. He threatens me to act normally when we’re in public. He’s a horrible person. Please call me. I’m hiding a secret phone.
I’ve given him the number to one of my spare SIMs that came with my cell phone, which I’ve put into an old cell phone I haven’t gotten rid of yet. Jamie frowns as we walk together back into the house. He wouldn’t let me walk alone. He places his hand on the small of my back. It’s all part of the theater if Dad’s watching, but even if he’s not, I’m glad for the company.
“When do you have work next?” he asks.
“Tomorrow. I’m supposed to be at school today.”
He smirks down at me as we walk into the kitchen.
“What does supposed to mean?” he says.
I’m about to tell him he’s giving me dream vibes again. I settled on that phrase last night when we held each other in bed. He was sitting up as if ready to spring into action at any moment, and I was lying, half awake, sleep slowly taking me.
“You’re giving me dream vibes. All of this. Like I’m going to wake up any second.” When he asked me if I wanted to wake up, I replied, “Not if it means losing you.”
Am I a sucker for accepting him so easily? His lies? What if there are more lies?
But the sting of guilt isn’t as sharp as before I saw Dad when I thought Jamie had hacked my father to death. Now I know he’d never do that. He would kill, but only to protect our family.
“I’m not sure I should go in,” I murmur. “What if Dad comes back and we’re not here? We need to get our hands on him. Call the cops. Explain.”
Without discussing it, we walk into the living room. We’ve got the curtains drawn, meaning he can pull me into his arms. We discussed not being overly intimate in places Dad might be able to spy on us. He’ll be able to see how badly I want Jamie and that I’m not his prisoner. Or, if I am, I want to be.
“The cops may not believe us,” Jamie says. “Or maybe, back then, they were in on it. It was strange how easily they accepted all of this.”
“But that was years ago. I bet those cops wouldn’t risk their necks for Dad.”
“They’d risk it for their own, though. To protect what their predecessors did.”
I clutch onto him tighter, squeezing his sides through his shirt. “There has to be something we can do.”
“No, you’re right. We have to call the cops.” He sounds reluctant. “It’s the only move we can make, really…”
He trails off, his voice taking on a dreamy quality. It’s like he sounded in the documentary when he was talking about his novels.
“Why do I feel you’ve just had a spark of creative genius?”
“We could lure your dad here, as you suggested. It won’t be difficult for me to get him under control. Then yes, the logical next step is to call the cops, but if the cops were involved in the past, they’ve got every incentive to bury it.”
“So, how do we stop them?”
“I write about what happened. I try to make it compelling. I try to write it so that people will care. It will have to be short, to the point.” He sighs darkly. “Maybe nobody will even notice, but maybe we can kick up enough of a fuss to make people care.”