41. Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-two
Summer
I should’ve called it off.
When I saw the hatred in my father’s eyes in his office, I should have called everything with Alec off. A part of me knew having him involved would cause a shitty outcome. Instead, I let my emotions consume my better judgment.
It’s better this way.
Leaving with my father was the only choice I had, not only to keep Alec safe but also to keep everyone else around me safe.
The rugged metal barrel of my father’s gun presses roughly against my side. My ankle stings from being forced down each step. I fight through the pain, telling myself that I’ll finally see a doctor as soon as my father cools down.
The stale air does nothing but worsen my nerves. Only one thing crosses my mind—this is the end of everything.
But he’s safe now.
Without me in his life, Alec is safer.
Even if that means this is the end of my existence.
Dad opens the back door to his police car, shoving me inside. I nearly stumble, falling onto the back seat as he slams the door shut. I can’t escape from this even if I want to. I can’t run. There’s a reason Dad chose to bring the police car to collect me… the back doors don’t open from the inside. That was his goal. Trap me and drag me home.
My body is weak, and I am hardly able to scramble myself upright. I manage, though, not having a choice.
Dad pulls into the road, and it takes everything inside me not to look back, not to ruin my sacred heart any more than it already is.
“You are never to come back here. Do you understand me, Summer?” He says my name with such hatred.
I bite my tongue, not giving him the slightest acknowledgment. But that only angers him when he barks back at me, “ Do. You. Understand ?”
My eyes turn angrily, shifting to meet his stern gaze in the rearview mirror. “Yes. I understand, Father .”
After that, the car ride is silent. My eyes well up with tears that I don’t want Dad to see. I fight the urge to cry. At a moment like this, crying is nothing but weakness, and that’ll do me no good.
The moving scenery blends together as we pass each building. I almost didn’t notice we were back home. But it’s not my home anymore. As soon as I get inside, I’m going to pack as many of my things as I possibly can and leave again – far away from here.
I’m going to leave town.
It’s the only thing I can do to keep myself safe.
It’ll be easy, considering Dad never gave me a chance to gather my things at Alec’s, my phone included. I won’t be trackable. It’ll be like I no longer exist.
It’s for the best, I keep reminding myself.
When Dad kills the engine, my body tightens as he steps out and opens the door for me to get out. He grips my wrist again, this time tighter. It’s definitely going to leave a mark. I wince, putting pressure on my foot while he drags me onto the porch. If the neighbors were outside, they wouldn’t think anything of it with how close Dad stays to me.
He shuffles for his key on the key hoop. Once he has it, he aggressively shoves it in the door. “Locks were changed, and a keypad will be installed on the inside tomorrow.” He leans closer, tugging on my arm. “To ensure you will stay where you belong.”
My throat pinches. The door opens, and Dad pushes me inside, slamming the door shut.
“In the meantime, the lock on your door has been swapped, along with an alarm on your window.”
What the fuck?
I’m trapped. I’m my father’s prisoner.
This is unbelievable.
I can feel the muscles in my jaw quiver, and I turn so Dad doesn’t notice. I limp my way to the stairs and into my room, making sure to look at the knob. Sure enough, he changed the door handle… if he locked this door, I’d need a key to get out.
I close the door slightly, leaving it propped open just in case. Tears well up in my eyes, but my mouth drops as soon as I see my room.
My father removed everything… the walls are completely bare, with nothing but holes from nails and screws. My desk is gone, my vanity… gone. There is only my bed and dresser.
The tears fall heavy. But the sorrow I have been overwhelmed with has become a seething anger bubbling beneath the surface.
He’s ripping everything away from me, and I demand to be set free.
I need to be free from this monster and away from whatever hold he thinks he has over me.
Heavy footsteps come from the hallway. My hands clench into fists, praying he doesn’t bother me. I listen carefully. The door to his room closes, but it doesn’t take long for it to reopen.
I release the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding in as I hear his heavy footsteps fade back down the stairs.
I’m not sure how long I stand in my room in disbelief, but I manage to eventually pull myself together and open the door. Tiptoeing is much easier since I still can’t put full pressure on my bad foot. I take a small peek into his room, noting that Dad placed his gun on his dresser.
I could pluck it up quickly and hold onto it for protection.
Right before my foot moves over the threshold my father calls my name from the living room. My heart immediately picks up the pace.
“Yes, Dad?” I call from the top of the stairs.
“I have a few things we need to go over. Could you come down?”
My eyes narrow at the incredible shift in his tone. It’s lighter, less angry. And now, I’m entirely confused. Not wanting him to be full of rage, I do what he asks and limp down the stairs, keeping some weight off my foot. When I get into the living room, Dad is sitting in his recliner with a stack of papers. He flips through them aimlessly, a pen in his hand as he signs whatever is on the papers.
I clear my throat, keeping my distance in case his personality flips the switch again. “Where is all my stuff?” That’s not the question I should have asked right away, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Your belongings are a privilege in this house. If you want them back, you must earn them.”
I bite my tongue so I don’t say anything stupid, but the words roll off the tip anyway. “I don’t even want to be in this house. I don’t want to be anywhere near you!”
He moves his head up but doesn’t turn around to look at me. I can see the tight pinch of his lips as he nods his head.
“I understand you are upset with me, but it is for your own good.”
God, I’m getting a headache.
“How is taking all of my things for my own good?”
“They are items that you can earn as long as you obey me. I lost your mother, and I refuse to lose you, too.” He keeps his voice steady.
My eyebrows shoot to my hairline at his unbelievable statement. “You lost my mother? Are you sure you didn’t fucking kill her. Everything points to you!”
He lets out an evil chuckle and pinches the bridge of his nose before standing up. “You’re mistaken, my sweet daughter. I did not kill your mother.” He takes a step toward me, a cruel smirk on his face. I back up as far as I can go, but my back clashes with the wall. “Do you remember my buddy, Brandon?”
I shake my head, not having any idea who Brandon is.
“Oh, come on. You saw him briefly at the station.” He cocks his head, clicking his tongue. “Anyway, he killed your mother. Didn’t think I could handle it myself knowing I had you to protect and all. It was simple, actually. One little phone call, he was at my feet doing exactly what he was ordered to do.”
I swallow. The horrid vision forcing its way into my mind. “You… you ordered him to kill your wife?”
He chuckles. “I ordered him to give your mother a slow, painful death. He dragged his knife through her stomach and cut out her insides. I watched her until she took that final breath. I needed to make sure the job was done, and she paid for what she did to me.”
My eyes widen; the white around my irises on full display. My stomach churns at his foul words. “You’re sick.”
Dad takes a step back, turning away from me. His hands run through his gray hair as he lets out a long breath. He picks up the stack of papers, looks over them for a mere second and turns back to me.
“I arranged for you to go back to college. You will do as you are told. Transportation is provided to and from school. You will have an escort to ensure you don’t run your little ass elsewhere. Connecticut State College is going to work under the circumstances of your traumatic experiences and transfer you closer. That is what all these forms are. You must sign two spots, and the rest is taken care of.”
I’m going to be sick. “I’m not signing anything.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “That is where you are wrong. You will sign those papers or deal with the consequences.”
My arms wrap around my stomach. I hug myself tight, hoping to settle the nausea that’s working up my throat. “You don’t care about me at all. You’re… you’re insane. Mental. You deserve to be locked away for the rest of your life to rot like the cold-hearted prick that you are.”
Without warning, Dad moves so fast toward me that I don’t get a chance to dodge him. His head rises, and his hard fist connects with the side of my head, under my eye, sending a sharp pain to course through my skull. I stumble back, hitting the wall behind me, and slip down onto the floor. My vision blurs momentarily as the pain radiates through my skull. Warmth creates a path down my cheek. I use the back of my hand to wipe it away, to notice its blood.
I look into my father’s cold, dark eyes in complete shock. My face stings. No matter how hard I try to push my way through this… I can’t. There’s no point in fighting back the tears that fall desperately. If my own father can watch his wife be slaughtered to death, and count each last breath taken… there is no hope for me.
There never was.
I shift my weak body, scrambling to my feet, but the loud fling of the door crashing into the wall has me dropping back down onto the floor in terror.
“Back away from her.”
My stomach drops at the familiar voice.
Alec.
No. No. No. He can’t be here.
I peek over at him, watching him walk through the doorway. My father doesn’t move a muscle. Instead, he laughs at the sight of Alec. My lungs squeeze when my eyes drift to Alec’s hands. He holds a silver pistol steady in them, pointing straight at Dad.
I recognize that gun.
It’s the one from Dad’s safe that I stole.
We had it this entire time in Alec’s apartment… I thought he had gotten rid of it. Defeat rushes over me. We could have protected ourselves. I could have managed to stay away from Dad when he came to get me.
“Son, put that thing down before you hurt someone.”
Dad pulls my attention. Worry flickers through me. But looking at Alec’s confidence brings me something else that I can’t explain.
Alec doesn’t look back. Not even a sliver. He keeps his eyes on my father, observing him. “The only person that’ll be hurt from now on is you.” Then he says to me, “Summer, get behind me.”
And I do. I hurry behind Alec.
“He doesn’t have his gun on him,” I whisper as low as possible. I know he heard me—the way his foot shifted slightly to be certain I stayed told me so.
Dad laughs, slipping his hands into the pocket of his slacks. “I bet you have never shot a gun before.”
He’s toying with Alec.
Alec tilts his head, his lips curling upward. “No?” He turns his arm and pulls the trigger. I jump from the loud noise. A bullet flies across the room, shattering the grandfather clock. “I guess you don’t know me all that well.”
My father’s eyes darken. “You’ll pay for that,” he grits.
Alec cocks the gun again, aiming it at Dad’s head. My heart beats heavily, and fear slithers across my entire body.
“The only thing I’m going to regret is not doing this sooner,” Alec spits.
“Alec,” I whisper.
“Go outside, Summer,” Alec demands.
“Yes, Summer. Go outside. Wouldn’t want you to see pretty boy here go down so brutally.”
I ignore my father. He’s only trying to get under my skin.
“I’m not leaving you,” I tell Alec.
Dad’s laugh is louder. “Look at you two. Disgusting. You know, Summer. He’ll only do what your mother did to me. Word travels fast. Alec Sokolov will follow his father’s footsteps.”
Alec’s body tightens, the muscle in his jaw twitches. That’s all it took as another fire went off. My body jolts backward, my hands flying to cover my ears as my eyes force themselves closed. A scream goes off, echoing through my head, followed by a loud thud.
“You fucking bastard!”
“Word has it… I follow in my father’s footsteps,” Alec repeats my father’s words, cocking the gun once more.
My eyes slowly open to see a pool of crimson red gush out of my father’s thigh. My chest heaves.
Breathe, Summer.
I try to process what just happened, but I’m struggling. “You shot my father…”
A knot forms in the pit of my stomach. Panic working its way through me. I’m startled by a hand on my shoulder, and I swerve around fast to face Allen. My chest eases up as he pulls me into him for a hug.
“Get outside now,” he orders.
I nod, petrified, but I can’t get my feet to move as a SWAT team barges through the house. Four travel upstairs, and three surround my father with guns aimed at him. Officer Brentley takes the weapon from Alec’s hand, shoving it into the back of his pants.
“I told you to wait. Five minutes, that’s all I needed,” Brentley says to Alec, then pulls out his cuffs.
“If I waited longer, it would’ve been worse,” Alec points out. “You’re not the one who had to listen from the outside. I couldn’t sit back and do nothing.”
“That’s exactly what you could’ve done,” Brentley bites back. “I came as fast as I got the call.”
What call?
Allen walks toward my father who grips his thigh in an attempt to stop the blood from oozing out. He pulls both of my father’s arms to his back. “Charles Raleigh, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law.” He clicks the cuffs so tight, Dad’s teeth clench.
“You’ll regret this,” Dad says to Alec specifically, but I don’t miss the way he stares at me with so much cruelty, like he’s planning his next attack. The rage in his voice only makes my stomach flip again.
Brentley tugs him off the floor and pushes my father toward us. “Shut up, Charles.”
Alec wraps his arm across my stomach while I hold onto his shirt. He swivels his body so he’s closer than I am as my father and Brentley walk right past us. A knot forms in my belly when my father is forcefully shoved past us. He stares at me like he wants me dead. I turn away, crinkling my eyes shut tight, and swallow down the sobs.
“All clear,” one of the men upstairs shouts, and the remainder of the SWAT team scatters out the doors following Officer Brentley and my father.
It doesn’t take long for Alec to turn and face me after my father is escorted out of the house. He grabs my cheeks carefully in his hands, his eyes trailing over the cut on my face. His jaw tightens but there is softness as his thumb brushes away the bloody tears drooping down my face.
“Please tell me you’re OK.”
“I’m OK. I’ll be OK,” I reassure him, but I know in my heart that’s not true. “Are you OK?”
“Never better.” He presses his lips to mine making sure he’s careful around the cut on my cheek. “Let’s get you checked out.”
For the first time, I don’t argue.