Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
I will never let her go… and God help anyone who dares try to take her from me.
Chapter Seventeen
FALLON
“Rich,” I mutter, opening my eyes slowly. When I do, they land on Rich, who is staring right at me. I can’t help but smile.
“You okay?” He reaches out, cupping my cheek, his thumb stroking back and forth. I let my eyes fall back closed, enjoying the feel of his touch.
Rich’s hands and fingers only ever bring me pleasure. It’s amazing to me that they are the same hands that he easily uses to destroy others. That should scare me, but it doesn’t. My father was that kind of man, but he never wielded his power to protect me. No, he was constantly trying to break me down. To control me so that I would easily submit to whatever his plans were for me at the time.
“I was dreaming about you,” I tell him, letting my eyes drift back up. “Not of the boat and the water or my father. Not a nightmare. Just dreams.” I’ve noticed that my nightmares have lessened as time has passed. I know without a doubt that Rich is the main reason for that. The safety and security he provides allow my mind to be at ease.
“Only want to give you sweet dreams.” He smirks. “And dirty ones.”
A giggle pops free. “Have you just been lying there staring at me?”
“And thinking.”
“About last night?”
“All of it really. I need to go speak to King.” I see the flash of anger in his eyes.
"You're still pissed."
"He used you as bait."
"It was me who asked to go to the fight," I admit. "I missed you." I watch some of the anger melt away. “I didn’t have to go. I—” I lean forward, kissing him. Rich suddenly rolls, taking me with him so that I’m pinned beneath him.
“That’s a dirty trick you played.”
“But it worked.” I smile at him. “I can’t hide from my father forever.” I don’t want to spend my life in the shadows. I’ve missed enough in life because of him, and I won’t miss another second.
"As much as I don't want to talk about that asshole, I want to know what he put you through. If anyone can relate to an abusive father, it's me.”
I touch the small scar on the side of his head by his temple. “My father made sure not to leave any lasting marks on me. Well, physically anyway. It’s not because he had compassion or anything. He just didn’t want me to be damaged goods. He never outright said that was what he was doing, but when talk of me getting married off one day started to come up, I pieced that together.”
“I want to kill him.” The intensity in Rich’s eyes lets me know his statement isn’t a half joke or offhand comment. He means it.
“The physical abuse got less.”
“I’m guessing because you got in line and made sure not to give him any reason.”
“True,” I agree. There were a couple of times I was close when he was pissed, and I got the random backhand. “Being locked in my room was worse.”
“You know I’m not trying to keep you locked away, right? We can go anywhere.”
“I know that. It was more the isolation that killed my spirit. I was lonely.” I love being tucked away here with Rich. This home is filled with so much life and happiness.
“Promise, dollface. Lonely will be the last thing you’ll ever be with me. I bet I'll start to annoy you.”
“Never.” I was so worried I was going to start to wear Rich down with how clingy I can be when it comes to him.
“My father used to beat the shit out of me.” His words feel like a knife in my heart. I hate that he had to experience that. I know firsthand the emotions that come along with having an abusive parent.
"I'm sorry." I can't picture anyone beating Rich.
"It was better for me to take it than my sister. I made sure his wrath was always aimed at me."
"You're a good man, Rich." Willa is lucky to have him. There were so many nights I wished I had someone to stick up for me.
"Am I? I wanted to kill him. Almost got to, but his death was taken from me."
"But he's gone." I trace my finger down his jaw. "What would killing him have done for you?"
"It was my right."
"Then, is it mine to kill my father?" I watch his face closely. I can’t stand my father, but I can’t picture killing him either.
"You don't have to."
"Because you will handle that?"
"I'll handle him." He might not have said kill, but the silent word is there. "You don't need that in your mind. We're keeping your dreams sweet and dirty."
“I don’t want you to do anything that will put you in danger. Or that will risk our future together. He’s not worth it. I refuse to allow him to take anything else from me.” While I want my dad to suffer and I couldn’t care less if he died, I won’t give him the satisfaction of ruining the rest of my life.