Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Nevertheless, I find myself nodding, following my once-stepfather into the bar. I nervously scan the patrons, wondering which one of them is the one that called me here tonight. But I don’t get a chance to contemplate it any further – I freeze as Davis’ meaty palm wraps around my forearm and he sits me down at the bar.
“We’ll have two whiskey neats, double,” he nods at the bartender while I digest my shock over seeing him again. The guy gives me an uncertain look, but as Davis slides a fifty-dollar bill to him, my age is quickly forgotten. He pours the drinks while Davis turns to face me again with that billion-dollar smile. “Are you okay, Willa?”
No.
No, I’m not okay. I haven’t ever been okay. And it’s because of you.
All those words melt on my tongue, dissolving into nothing. I’m too afraid to say a word. Too stunned to find an appropriate reaction.
“I take it you’re in shock,” he grins. “I figured you would be when you saw me again.”
I drink the whiskey the bartender hands us in one go, throwing it back and making a face as it burns my throat.
“What are you doing here, Davis? You left years ago.”
“I’m back,” he shrugs. “Got re-married to a rich bitch, got a divorce... Left with a thick alimony payment I get monthly.”
He winks at me and I feel bile rising in my stomach. This man makes me so fucking sick, pretending like he never hurt me, pretending like he never fucked me up as bad as he did.
“Aren’t you happy I’m back?”
A feeling of sickness lingers in my stomach. I shake my head no, but I’m powerless to do any more than that.
“Such a little brat,” he smirks. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
I can’t possibly tell my stepfather the truth, so I come up with some bullshit excuse about my friends bailing on me. He makes a sad face at me before suggesting, “Why don’t you come to my hotel with me? We can reminisce. And I have something of your mother’s.”
This has my attention. I don’t have any mementos of Mom – all those years ago, the very man sitting next to me made sure of it.
“What is it?”
“Some old necklace of hers,” he shrugs. “A gift from your father, apparently.”
I remember the one, nodding eagerly. Mom never took it off. It’s one of the things I remember as clearly as if I just ran my fingertips across it yesterday.
“I shouldn’t,” I manage to get out. But I’m a marionette in Davis’ hands, just like I always was. He can shape, mold and manipulate me all he wants. And judging by the confident smirk on his face, the man is clearly aware of it.
“Come on.” He cocks his head at me. “Your friends bailed anyway, right?”
I glance around the bar again. But surely, if the mystery man from the app was here, he would’ve come up to me now. I guess he was the one who chickened out this time, not me.
“Okay,” I whisper in a small voice.
“Good girl.”
I wince at the sound of those two words on his lips. He’s the one that made me hate them.
I regress when Davis is around. I’m back to being the helpless little kid who couldn’t fight him. Who couldn’t say no. Who’d been taught to be a good girl and obey an adult she trusted. And I did, I obeyed. And Davis proceeded to ruin my life.
But his gaslighting didn’t stop there. He twisted his hold on my mind and my body until he broke me. It’s only because of Raphael that I feel I’ll be able to trust another man.
Wordlessly, I follow him. We walk on the rainy street to his hotel that’s only a building to the left. I guess that’s why he was in this bar in the first place. My heart beats into overdrive as we get into the elevator and I feel his leering gaze on me.
But unlike in the past, Davis doesn’t make a move the first chance he gets this time.
No, this predator has grown smarter and even more murderous.
He invites me into his room after unlocking it with a keycard. It’s a penthouse suite, several rooms overlooking the city. I guess that alimony check is paying for all of this.
It makes me fist my hands, remembering the hell he put Mom and me through when I was a kid. We couldn’t dream of luxuries like this. We were lucky if we got to eat.
“You want a drink?”
I give a non-committal shrug, and he’s quick to start mixing an intoxicating cocktail from the mini fridge.
I fight with my desire to leave and the old methods of obeying that were hammered into me. I don’t want to stay here. The thought of Davis touching me again makes my skin crawl. But I can’t bring myself to leave, not until he hands over my mom’s necklace.