Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 116263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Only now his laughter was cruel, and he slowly pushed to standing, a phantom that rose in the night. The knife was slack at his side as he took a single step toward me. “Oh, but you’re the reason for it, don’t you know? It’s your fault I have to make sure your sickness doesn’t run through the rest of them. We can’t have those types of delusions tainting the world. Your filth. I’m simply cleansing this place of you.”
His voice twisted on the last phrase, becoming high-pitched, not his own.
At his vicious words, pain speared me to the core, and I held on to the counter behind me, telling myself he wasn’t the one who was issuing the vile insults. I stalled, silently chanting prayers that Pax, Timothy, and Dani would find the Ghorl.
Prayed that their feet would carry them to where I needed them to go. Prayed that there was a chance we could pull this off.
Prayed, above all else, that I could get my mom and siblings out of this. Since she was here, I had to believe the kids were, too.
He took another step forward, and I began to ease back in an attempt to lure him from the kitchen. The farther away from my mother, the better.
He clucked his tongue and his brown eyes boiled black, his voice so twisted it wasn’t recognizable. “There’s no need to run, Aria. I’ll find you.”
He took another step, and I grabbed a chair and swung it around to create a barrier between us. I held on to the back, leaning in his direction, trying to reach him without getting too close. “Look at me, Dad. Look at me. Remember me. You love me. You have love inside you. This is not you. The voices are not your own. You can’t let them control you.”
Hissing, he sliced the knife through the air. I jolted back on a gasp. The tip of it had missed my throat by a mere inch. He roared when he realized he hadn’t made contact, and he grabbed the chair and threw it out of his path.
Wood clattered against the tile as it toppled over. He stepped around it, and I kept backing away, trying to anticipate his moves, what he would do next.
But I knew there was nothing inside him that was rational. He’d lost touch. Had lost logic. Had lost soul.
Still, I tried. “Do you remember when Brianna was born? Do you remember holding her in the chair in the living room, her chest against yours as you patted her back? She used to wind her fist in your hair and tug it as she cooed. You swore she was saying she loved you. She was. She was telling you she loved you, and she’s always loved you as much as you love her. You love her. You love her. Just like you love the rest of them.”
I kept hoping to knock him out of the trance, to make him come to without it having to come to more than that, but I was losing that hope.
The hollowness in his eyes promised I wasn’t doing anything but agitating him more.
I took another step backward, inching toward the living room.
He slashed the knife toward me again.
I cried out in surprise when it nicked my left shoulder.
Manically, he grinned. “We’ll give you some scars now. Real ones.”
Oh God. I choked over the sob that threatened to wrench its way out, but I forced myself to focus. To remember my purpose of coming here. I needed to get him away. Alone.
Torment ripped from my mother, though it was garbled by the tape.
I took another step backward, but he didn’t follow. Her cries had stopped him, though I sensed no sympathy in his vacillation. There was only hate. Vicious, cruel hate as he changed course and slowly walked around the island in her direction.
Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he forced her onto her feet and put the knife to her throat. She yelped, and I saw what swelled and overflowed in her eyes.
She was begging me to run. To save myself.
Tears blurred my own, and I wanted to run across the kitchen and throw myself between them, but I knew better than to make any sudden moves.
I carefully inched forward, and I did my best to keep the tremors from my voice when I forced out, “It’s me you want. Let her go. She has nothing to do with this. I came back because you want me. Because he wants me.” My voice dipped in emphasis on the last words.
My father’s nostrils flared, and for a second, he contemplated it before he sneered. “You’ve always been a little liar, Aria. I won’t let you get away with it this time. Come here to me.”
I stalled, hesitating, my attention trained on them both.