Chapter 15 #2
I barely heard it shatter on the ground.
I was too busy running, trying to get to the other side of the long island.
I didn’t make it. He caught me by the sleeve of my dress.
I tried to pull free, but my sock feet kept slipping on the tile floor.
His hand shot up from my sleeve to my collar.
He yanked me to him with such force that the neckline ripped and I went falling toward him.
He didn’t catch me before I hit the tile floor on my knee and elbow hard.
I didn’t have time to comprehend the pain before fingers snaked into my hair and fisted.
“Get up,” he barked as he yanked up on my hair.
Sharp, stinging, burning pain spread all over my scalp.
I screamed an ear-piercing scream. When I got my feet under me and could focus on something other than the pain, I noticed his fist still on my torn dress by my shoulder.
I pushed up on my feet, shooting up quickly so he wasn’t pulling my hair taut, and bit his hand hard enough to draw blood.
He roared, releasing my dress, but not my hair. So when I went to get away, I just fell back.
“You little bitch!” he yelled, punching me in the ribs with the fist I’d just bitten.
Air left me. The shock and pain seemed to shut down my lungs and their ability to expand. My legs gave out. He caught me and tossed the top half of me face down on the kitchen island. With one hand pinning me between my shoulder blades, he used the other to shove the bottom of my dress up.
I was finally able to pull myself out of my shocked state to start struggling against him. “No! Stop it!” Because of the height of the counter and how much of me he’d thrown over it, only my sock-covered toes touched the floor.
I felt his finger hook the side of my thong and pull hard, the fabric cutting across my hip just before it ripped.
I flailed and twisted as I screamed as loud as I could until my throat felt like it was ripping apart.
I reached and swung my arms. My fingers touched a large wooden bowl on the counter full of fruit.
I curled my fingers around the lip of it and tried with all my might to swing it backward, sending grapefruit and lemons everywhere.
He caught my wrist as he pressed his pelvis against my butt and the backs of my bare thighs.
His tight grip jerked with a strength I couldn’t fight, and the bowl went clattering to the floor.
He twisted my arm to hold it behind my back.
He didn’t break it, but it fucking hurt enough to make me scream again.
“Just accept what’s about to happen,” he growled as he struggled to hold me. “You might actually like it.”
Air hit my backside just before I heard his zipper. Tears poured out of my eyes, dripping onto the quartz counter as I did just as he said. Very quickly, I came to terms with the fact that he was about to rape me and I couldn’t stop it.
I heard a loud thunk a split second before Clay grunted and disappeared from behind me. I quickly pushed off of the island and turned.
Prue was standing behind me with a cast-iron skillet in her hand. Clay was on the floor unconscious.
Breathing heavy, tears still pouring down my cheeks, I looked back and forth between Clay and Prue, trying to wrap my head around things. “What do we do? What do we do?” Each time I asked, my voice grew more panicked.
Prue calmly came over and set the skillet on the counter. “You leave.”
“What?” I asked.
“You leave. Right now, Charlotte. I’ll take care of this and let you know when it’s safe to come back,” Prue said as she tried to usher me out of the kitchen.
“I don’t have anywhere to go.”
She sighed. “You still haven’t read the letter?”
“I read it!” I didn’t understand.
She paused in the foyer. “Then you know who your real father is. Go to him.”
“I don’t know where he lives or what he looks like,” I quickly said.
“He’s a Haven’s Rebel. Go to any one of them and ask. They’ll tell you how to find him.”
I spun around to face her and grabbed her upper arms. “How do you know—have you known everything this whole time?”
Her hands cupped my elbows gently. “Mr. Noah sent me a letter, too. A few weeks ago. Change is coming. JJ and I are going to help you.”
“My father’s lawyer?”
She nodded. “He’s been waiting for you to reach out to him. I’ll let him know you’ve read the letter. Now go, before he wakes up.” She turned me and gave me gentle pushes until I was almost to the door.
My mind raced so much that when I noticed my wristlet and keys at the bottom of the stairs, I only had a split-second thought that I should probably grab those.
Before Prue could toss me out, I quickly scooped them up and stopped resisting leaving.
Once I was out the door, she shut it behind me without saying goodbye.
Clutching my keys and wristlet, I went around the house to the garage.
I had to use the side door, which was thankfully unlocked.
I climbed into my G-Wagon and pressed the button to open one of the garage doors.
I was rushing so frantically that I didn’t remember to put my seat belt on until I was already on the road. I didn’t know where to go, but I was heading south. As I drove, I took my dead phone out of my wristlet and put it on the wireless charging mat in the center console.
Where do I go?
I didn’t want to go looking for my birth father.
Especially not looking like this.
I glanced down. My dress, which had been a turtleneck, was torn down the back and the neckline kept falling off my shoulder. I didn’t even have shoes on.
Why didn’t I grab my boots?
The sight of myself made my eyes fill again. I just let the tears fall. I knew they didn’t help my situation, but I didn’t have it in me to stop them from falling.
I pulled over just after crossing the Kendry Bridge. Resting my forehead on the steering wheel, I tried to calm myself enough to think. It took a while, but I eventually came up with an idea.
I grabbed my phone. It was charged to ten percent. That was plenty for the call I needed to make. I went through my contacts for the number I had received last night before parting ways. After wiping both of my cheeks, I hit call and brought the phone to my ear.
It rang a few times until muffled voices and music filled the other end of the line and a female voice answered. “Hey, babe!”
I sniffled before I tried to say with a calm voice, “Hey, Mac.”
I heard her breath hitch a little. “Lottie, are you okay?” As she spoke, the music and voices grew distant.
“I need your help,” I said.