Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“It’s complicated.”
“It’s not,” she argued. “The only thing I don’t understand is why you don’t stand up to him. I hate him, Mom. I hate him so much and I know you do, too, but I don’t understand why you’d let him do these things.”
“Ava, you have to understand. I’m working to figure this out. I’m working harder than you’d ever know to make sure we are good.”
“We’d be good without him,” she told me. “I’m going to Grandma’s. I already texted her, and she’s on her way.”
“Ava—”
“I love you, Mom,” she cut in as she rushed to me and hugged me. She hugged me tighter than she’d ever hugged me before. I choked on my next breath, pushing down the sob that was trying its hardest to escape from between my lips. “I just wished you loved you, too.”
I shut my eyes, kissed her forehead, and let her go.
I stayed in her bedroom after she headed off with Tamera. A part of me wished I’d gone with her. I wished I’d packed a bag and headed over to Tamera’s, too, to escape the prison I resided in.
After she left, I headed back to the dining room to clean up the table. As I was doing so, Henry reappeared in the room, a look of disdain on his face.
“You knew Gabriel Sinclair before he began working on the project?” he asked.
Chills raced through my system, knowing that this conversation wouldn’t lead to anything good. “We don’t have to talk about that.”
“The hell we don’t. What the hell did Ava mean about that? Were you in love with him?”
“I knew him when we were young. It was a long time ago, Henry, and Gabriel didn’t even remember me.”
“But you remembered him,” he urged. “Were you playing me this whole time?”
“What?” I chuckled slightly, stunned by the question. “Of course not. I wasn’t the one who hired Gabriel, remember? That was you.”
“But you were mocking me this whole time.” He moved over to me as I gathered a stack of plates. “Did you get off on embarrassing me? And did you enjoy having Ava mad at me?”
“I didn’t embarrass you, Henry. Also, Ava being mad at you has nothing to do with me.”
“It has everything to do with you. If it wasn’t for you and your lies, this Gabriel thing would’ve never happened.”
I turned to walk toward the kitchen, not wanting to go back and forth with him. I was burned out both mentally and spiritually. My heart was exhausted, and I was running on empty. All I wanted to do was disappear for a while. I wanted to crawl into a dark cave and stay hidden away from the world, from Henry.
I wished I were invisible.
I placed the dishes into the sink, and Henry appeared right behind me. He gripped my wrists from behind and slammed my hands against the edge of the counter, pinning them down. His body pressed against mine as I closed my eyes, scared of what he’d do next. Everything slowed whenever he pinned me down. I hated that I didn’t go with Ava. I should’ve gone with her.
His hot breath melted against my skin, reminding me of his control over me. He tilted my head slightly and rubbed his nose against my earlobe. “Did you fuck him in our house, too?” he whispered.
What was I supposed to do when the devil was the man who I said “I do” to?
Henry wasn’t strong, but he was stronger than me.
Henry wasn’t big, but he was bigger than me.
And he was beginning to unravel faster and faster with every passing moment.
“Please let me go, Henry,” I whispered, praying he didn’t sense the fear in my tone. He fed off that—my fear. He loved to know that he made me uneasy. That he had control over my comfort level, over my feeling of safety.
He tightened his grip on my wrists.
Did he do the same to Claire?
She was only seventeen when they’d met.
A little girl.
Only three years older than Ava was now.
My mind couldn’t wrap around the idea of a grown man preying on a child. Let alone someone who had been through as much as Claire had.
“I’ll let you go when I’m ready,” he hissed against my ear.
“Is that what you told Claire Dune?” I replied.
The words slipped through my lips and must’ve felt like a slam against his chest, because he dropped his hold on me.
He stepped backward and arched an eyebrow toward me. “What did you just say to me?”
“So you know her?” I asked.
“How do you know Claire?”
“Is she Ava’s mother?”
He shook his head. “No. Of course not. I told you, Ava’s mother was a junkie psycho.”
“Yes, that’s what you told me. But is that actually true?”
“How do you know Claire Dune?” he asked again, avoiding my question.