Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
My mother’s eyes went wide as saucers, either from the audacity of me daring to call my elder by his first name or because I mentioned the gardens, which she and I both knew had gone to seed the past couple months. It was an overgrown jungle in our backyard.
Mr. St. Claire’s smile went tight, and I could tell he’d like to wring my neck for my over-familiarity. But we were in front of his wife, and this was outward society, not the Oleander. So he continued playing politician. “That sounds delightful. Darla, why don’t you and Marianne catch up while the kids and I take that walk.”
He stood up, the feet of his chair scraping abruptly against the porch. Walker leapt up beside him, and I led the way around the wraparound porch to the back of the house.
I wasn’t surprised when Mr. St. Claire was the first to speak. “Did it make you feel brave back there to disrespect me in front of my wife by using my first name, little girl?” he hissed. “Because you both know I can have you on your knees again sucking my cock and begging me for more any time I want.”
Walker swung around toward his father and was seconds away from taking a swing at his father, I could tell.
But I caught his gaze right in time and held up a discrete hand. Walker breathed out hard and turned away from his father, moving to stand beside me. A united front against Jack St. Claire and all he stood for.
Mr. St. Claire just started to chuckle, though. “Well, isn’t this adorable. Don’t go getting a backbone now, son. It doesn’t suit you.” Then he reached inside his inner suit coat pocket and pulled out several pictures. He didn’t hesitate in turning them around to show us. My stomach burned in horror and fury at what I saw in the images.
It was me, tied to the St. Andrew’s Cross, candle wax and cum sprayed all over me. Several men’s cocks were also in the picture, in case it wasn’t clear exactly what was happening. Walker smacked the photos out of his father’s hand until they fluttered in the breeze across the porch floorboards. Walker proceeded to gather them up and tear them to shreds.
But Mr. St. Claire just laughed. “Do you think I’m foolish enough not to make copies?”
“That’s enough.” I stepped forwards.
“Yes, it is,” Mr. St. Claire said, and all traces of the kindly politician were gone. This was the cruel hunter I’d known from the Oleander. “Those pictures mean I own you. And if I tell you to get on your knees, you’ll fucking do it, and when I tell you to suck my cock, you’ll ask me, how hard, Sir? That is, if you want to ever see VanDoren Enterprises ever again. You’ll be a good little governor’s wife to my son and you’ll both do exactly what I want you to do, when I want you to do it, from here on out.”
Walker’s face was mottled with fury, and I could see that in this moment, he wanted to kill his father.
But I stepped in instead, a calm smile on my lips. After everything I’d been through, did this little man really think he had any power to scare me anymore? It was laughable.
“Well, since this has apparently become a dick measuring contest, Jack, let me make it clear to you.” My voice was cold as ice as I delivered the news I’d been waiting all night to give to this sonofabitch. “I actually have your dick in a vise.”
He opened his mouth but I wasn’t about to let this jackhole do any more talking. I held up a USB drive. “Mrs. Hawthorne pressed this into my hand right after she set the fire. And do you know what this little drive contains?”
Again, I didn’t give him the space to talk. The world had had enough of this fucker’s thoughts being expressed far too loudly for far too long. “It has all the pictures. And footage from the cameras it turned out you were hiding all around the Oleander. I guess you really liked watching yourself on camera fucking all those women.”
Jack’s face started going the same color his son’s was earlier, but I wasn’t about to stop now that I’d begun. “But you know, the scene I found most riveting was when you choked that poor woman to death and then threw her to the floor as if she were worth nothing more to you than last week’s garbage.”
I wasn’t quick enough to see Jack St. Claire’s hand rear back, but Walker was. He caught his father’s arm right before he landed his fist, aimed straight for my face. I gasped and danced back a step, but didn’t know why I was surprised by an outburst of violence from this man. Walker wrenched his father’s arm behind his back and then slammed him face-first to the slats of the porch floor. I hoped he got a splinter in his face.