55. Anna
CHAPTER 55
Anna
T he moment I met those dark, steely eyes, I turned on my heel to run. Randall Walker was a monster wearing the skin of a man. That skin had since become transparent and wrinkled. His body withering away in loneliness, where he so deserved to be.
The porch steps protested under my heavy steps when his voice rang out stopping me dead in my tracks.
“You stop that running, girl.” The command was like a spell engraved into my bones. Like a dormant tether that still connected me to the power he once held over me.
My back was to him. I gulped in shaky breaths, trying to tame the heart that pounded against my ribs like a Clydesdale.
“Turn around,” his voice thrust itself into my ears like a parasite. “Lemme see ya after all these years you went and abandoned me.”
Slowly, I turned towards the monster who seemed so big when I was small.
His slimy eyes rolled over my body. “Take off that coat.”
Spellbound, my body moved, shrugging the garment off. My nipples pebbled in the cold under my lighter winter jacket. The loss of Reign’s jacket made me feel naked and alone under his leering eyes.
He licked his thin, dry lips as his eyes lingered on my chest. “Got kinda fat,” he sneered. “But you’ll make good babies.”
He took another step towards me. Then another, until he was face to face with me. He reeked of body odor and baby powder. The scent overpowered me, leaving me incapable of holding back the bile.
I turned and vomited everything from the morning onto his open toed slippers. Retching painfully until nothing but yellow acid spewed from my lips like a projectile.
“You stupid bitch,” the curse was right at the hollow of my ear as a shockingly strong grip ripped me up by the strands of my hair. “You left me for years, and you come back with this type of greeting?”
The porch steps scraped across the backs of my ankles as he dragged me into the house. The smell of my puke choked me, gripping my throat in a suffocating hold. Dank air filled my nostrils as the slam of the storm door ripped me back to reality.
Oh God, I was in the house. I was in the house with him.
He threw me into the middle of the barely furnished living room. As my eyes adjusted, I took in the dusty furniture that haunted the house, untouched, covered by white sheets and cobwebs. Everything was as I remembered it. A loveseat, a fireplace, bookshelves lined with bibles and biblical texts, and sculptures of Jesus with their eyes fixated on me no matter where I went in the room. With only an archway separating it, my eyes landed on the tiny hole in the wall covered by the wood slab that led from the basement into the main house nestled silently in the wall of the dining area.
Pain bloomed in the side of my face as a rolled-up towel from the kitchen whipped across my cheek. “That’s just the beginning. ”
He unrolled the towel and sloppily wiped the bodily fluid from his bare feet. Kicking off the slippers, he flicked one in my direction, managing to hit me in the face with it. The shoe stank like sorrow and vomit.
I scrambled to my feet and beelined for the door before a bony body collided with mine. “I spent time in jail for you.” His hot breath felt sharp against the back of my neck. He pressed his pelvis against my ass, letting me feel the small erection he sported. “Only by the grace of the good Lord did they let me out.” He rubbed the embarrassing hard-on along the seam of my ass.
I was going to throw up again.
“I ain’t no pervert,” he whispered in my ear. “I never laid my seed in you. I did what any Godly man would do and waited for you to be of age, but you ran before then. And never came back to your dear father.” His words slithered across my skin like a snake.
He pressed me against the wall just beside the front door. The paneling sagged from lack of care and age. His hand slid around my body and squeezed my breast hard. He twisted the flesh until I cried out, only to be drowned out by his laughter.
“You’ll feed my babies well with these,” he snickered. He laughed until it turned into a frail, wet cough. “You’ll please me well.”
A queasy feeling landed heavily in the pit of my stomach as he shed my flimsy jacket. The crumpled fabric landed at my feet with a muffled thud. My dress was the only thing separating my body from his. A hot drop of Reign’s cum still leaked from me.
He cupped my crotch in his hands. His bony fingers dug into the sensitive flesh through my panties. He brought his fingers to his nose and sniffed like a dog.
Reign had been there only hours before; his need for me was inextinguishable, taking me in the shower, the car, every part of my body had Reign’s mark on it. As if reading my mind, my father's fist cracked down on my skull. My vision blackened to depths I didn't know possible before my eyes peeled open, facing his shoe on the scraped up hardwood flooring.
His thin body straddled my limp physique on the floor as he shook me by the collar of my dress. “You whore!” Spittle flew as he slammed me back down on the creaking floor. “You smell used like your whore mother.”
His fist went flying again, but this time, it was like I watched in slow motion from somewhere outside of my body. Flinching in preparation for the blow, hoping it would knock me unconscious, unable to push through more pain, I never felt it land. I dared to steal a peek, confusion nearly blinded me as I took in the scene before me.
Reign’s hand clasped father’s fist midair, leaving him dismayed and frozen in place. Reign’s blonde hair fell into his eyes that were oceans of endless blue. His pupils were nothing but tiny dots in his eyes giving him an unhinged psychotic appearance.
He had a wide Cheshire cat smile, and his teeth clenched. He flicked his wrist effectively snapping my father’s, bending it to an impossible angle.
The crunch slapped through the silence, immediately followed by the gargled scream that flew from my father’s throat.
“Get your fucking hands off of my vixen,” Reign’s voice was unrecognizable to my ears, it was venomous. He tore my father off of me as if he weighed nothing. Seizing him in his grip, he laid his fists into his face. “I’ll tear every fucking limb from your body.”
I shimmied myself into a sitting position and watched in horror. Heat pooled in my core. Turned on by the flex of Reign’s biceps as they laid into my father’s old body, leaving nothing but blood and teeth in the mush.
Randall couldn’t get his footing. Every time he tried, Reign swept a leg out beneath them, taking out his ankles. One of them cracked inwards, leaving my father a weeping, bloodied mess.
“Who,” he spat out his molars and choked on his own flesh. “Who are you?”
Reign’s chest heaved up and down. His muscles shook with adrenaline, and his blonde hair was soaked with the blood of the worst man who ever touched my life.
“I’m the only one you’ll answer to.” A bleak smile graced Reign’s lips. His chiseled features etched in my father’s blood made him look like an angel of death. And damn, if it didn’t turn me on in the foulest way.
“She was always meant to be mine!” Father screeched. The pained delusion echoed in the stillness of the raggedy farmhouse.
“She’s mine,” Reign snarled, kicking him in the jaw, leaving him gasping, making a god awful gurgling noise.
Blood splattered the walls like a sick Jackson Pollock masterpiece. Crimson painted Reign’s pale skin, enhancing his maniacal look. His stare filled with hatred and poisonous intent as it crested upon the man who ruined my childhood. Father was losing consciousness quickly. Reign gathered his failing body up, hoisting him over his shoulder to carry him off.
He turned his gaze to me, eyes immediately softening. “Vixen?”
I stumbled to my feet, not wanting to be left alone. “Yes?” My voice came out jagged.
“I’m sorry.” His eyes changed to molten pools of anguish.
I didn’t understand what he was sorry for. “Why? ”
He took a deep breath; ice replaced the soft look from moments before. “I’m going to break my promise to you.”