Chapter 35
The first thing I noticed after I closed the door was how quiet it was. Usually I’d hear the TV, or music playing on the radio in the kitchen.
I had a sinking feeling in my gut as I called out, “Mom, Dad?”
“About fucking time.” Craig’s voice dripped with hatred.
I froze in place and screamed.
“Shut up, you bitch. I know they got a guy watching the house; if he hears you I’ll kill your fucking parents.”
I put a trembling hand over my mouth and nodded.
“Good. Now get over here.”
I tried, but when I noticed the gun in his hand my feet froze to the floor, and my whole body started shaking. He”s going to kill me.
“NOW!” He pointed the gun in his right hand at the floor in front of him. Somehow, I found the strength to move. When I stopped in front of him he back-handed me, then grabbed my hair and yanked my head back.
I tried not to make a noise, but I couldn’t stop myself from wincing in pain.
“Not one fucking word, you stupid bitch. You got me arrested and fired from my job.” Spit flew out of his mouth, his breath reeked of alcohol. “And now you’re gonna pay.” My cheek stung from the slap, and my eyes watered as he continued to pull a fist full of hair.
He’d violated the restraining order so it was his own damn fault he got arrested, but he didn’t see it that way. He didn’t blame himself for violating the law; he blamed me for reporting him.
He dragged me to the kitchen were both my parents were sitting at the table. My dad’s left eye was swollen, and turning black and blue. I could see an empty whiskey bottle and several beer bottles on the island.
“You didn’t have to hit him.” I tried to pull away but he yanked harder causing me to wince and stumble back.
“He shouldn’t have insulted me.”
I tasted blood when he punched me, splitting my lip. I bit back my screams, knowing he’d hurt my parents if he thought Dean might hear me. My dad stood up, then sat back down when Craig pointed the gun at him.
“You don’t want me to have to shoot you in front of your wife and whore daughter, do you?”
I cringed as my father scowled, but lucky for all of us he didn’t say anything. What could he say? Craig was holding a gun and threatening his family. My mother reached out and grabbed one of my father’s hands as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Craig, let’s go in the living room and talk. You can tell me how stupid I am, and I’ll crawl on my hands and knees and beg for your forgiveness.” I watched him as he looked from them to me, considering it.
I tried to appeal to his compassionate side, hoping he still had one. “They don’t need to see that.”
I saw the glint of madness in his eyes a second before he grinned and said, “Yes, they do. I want them to see you grovel.”
He was too drunk, too angry, to feel even an ounce of compassion.
I got down on my knees. I’ll do anything to keep Craig from hurting my parents. They didn’t deserve any of this, and it’d kill them to watch this, but we didn’t have a choice.