Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27014 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27014 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
“Iris,” Tomas says, and my body is frozen in place.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper as he steps into the dressing room.
I look at my fake father in a wrinkled suit with his hair out of place. I’ve never seen him so disheveled in all my life, and it’s unnerving.
“Sweetheart, I didn’t know Helen was trying to push those boys on you. I would never have allowed that.” His fists are clenched at his sides. “She’s lucky I didn’t snap her fucking neck.”
“As nice as that is to hear, what does it really matter at this point?” What the hell? How is that the first thing he says to me? And why does the look in his eyes send a chill down my spine?
“I love you, Iris.” He takes another step closer, but I don’t believe him. They don’t know what love is. I didn’t really know until a few weeks ago.
“The money,” I remind him.
“The money was a bonus. I realized that as you started to grow up and I formed a new plan. I was the one that was going to put an heir inside of you. Helen could never have children, but you can.” He starts to move closer. “I would have loved putting them inside of you.”
I’m paralyzed. I open my mouth, but no words come out, and I don’t know why I’m even shocked at this point. He kidnapped me; why wouldn’t he be capable of something like this?
“You look very pretty in your dress.” He licks his lips, and his fingers twitch like he wants to touch me. “I never liked the things Helen put you in.” He says it casually, like he’s not about to die.
Dutch will tear him into bite-sized pieces.
“You need to leave. Dutch is going to kill you.” I’m finally able to speak. I take a step back, not realizing there is a sofa there, and I fall backwards onto it. Tomas towers over me. I’d forgotten how tall he was. From this position he’s frightening, and I have nowhere to go.
“You think he’s any different from me? He took his chance to get the money. He’s used you too.” He reaches for the buckle of his pants, and on instinct I lift my foot and kick out as hard as I can.
Somehow I manage to nail Tomas right in the balls, and he lets out a high-pitched scream as he doubles over in pain.
“He is nothing like you!” I scream and scramble away.
It’s then I see Dutch running up behind him. He wraps his big hands around the back of his neck and lifts him like a dirty rag. He tosses him across the room, and Tomas hits the mirrors along the wall. They all shatter and fall to the floor with him, the sound echoing through the space. Tomas lies there unmoving, with shards of the broken mirror all around him.
I can’t look away as Dutch makes his way over to Tomas again. This time he picks him up by the hair, and Tomas cries out. Dutch leans in close and says something to him, and I hear Tomas whimper. Dutch releases his hold, and he falls to the floor like a pile of garbage.
As soon as Dutch releases him, it feels like everything in my past I was holding on to is free. I’ve let go at the same time, and suddenly there is nothing standing in the way of Dutch and our future.
“You ready to go, little bit?” Dutch holds his hand out to me, and I take it quickly. He pulls me to him, and his warmth grounds me to the earth.
“Do you like my dress?” I tease, and his lips turn up into a smile.
“Fucking beautiful, baby girl.” He wraps his arm around me and pulls me close. “You sure you’re not hungry?” I play with the button on his shirt.
“Maybe a little.” I lick my lips, and his eyes sharpen.
“I’ve got you,” he says.
He’s right. He’s got me, but I’ve got him too.
Epilogue
Dutch
Twelve years later…
I sit back in my chair and stretch out my legs as Anna moves between them. She decided long ago she wanted to use the name her biological parents gave her because it was after the woman who loved her the most.
After hearing her fake father call her the name he’d given her, she decided that day it would be the last time she used it. After all, every document that we had named her as Anna when she went to the bank in Germany.
“No, we won’t be in attendance,” I say into the phone as her nimble fingers undo my belt. I brush her hair out of her face, and she looks up at me and pouts. “Hold on.” When I pull the phone away from my ear, I hold her chin. “Do you want to go?”