9. Try hosting parties now…
TRY HOSTING PARTIES NOW…
Iwalked to the back of the mansion first, to that little shed.
Home. The gasoline poured from the top of the spout as I walked around the area.
The bookshelf lay broken, unfixed. Exactly as I had found it when I woke up a few weeks ago.
Good, no one touched the evidence. I should have stopped and called the police; it would have been the right thing to do.
Report my father for rape, but I didn’t want that.
Prison was too sweet for him; hell, it had been his vacation home.
No, he didn’t deserve prison. I looked across the room, determined to burn the whole place to the ground.
The couch stained with my blood, cum, and sweat.
I poured a hefty amount of gasoline there.
Walking around the room, I spilled gas on the carpet and the wood.
Satisfied, I set the gas can down just outside.
Cole’s lighter glistened in the last remaining rays of sunshine before the storm moved in.
I didn’t think twice before the flint sparked to life and the sliver lighter flew into the puddle of gas.
Damn him for disappearing on me. The flame caught the accelerant with ease, sending the fire chasing across the floor.
The couch lit up, and I knew the rest would follow.
A trail of flames inched forward through the threshold, right to the waiting gas can.
I let it. Picking up the container, I poured gas across the lawn all the way back to the mansion.
Smoke rose, curling around my nose as the small building engulfed in flames. The air was thick with black, heavy smoke. I reveled in the smell of burning wood and electrical fumes as I continued my steps away from the building toward the mansion.
Cole’s face lit up the phone screen as I watched the burning of the mansion.
I didn’t dare answer; I just watched as the flames rose across the siding.
The explosion would happen any second now.
There was an anticipation that crept in while waiting for the torture house to explode.
A part of me imploded as the explosion flashed in front of me.
Heat coated my face like a long-lost friend, and I had the chilling urge to walk into the flaming debris as it rained down.
Instead, I turned and walked up the hill.
The iron gates groaned as I smashed the code in the box, and the black truck waited there for me.
I could hear the faint sirens from the firetrucks as they steadily came closer.
No doubt that the maids or housekeepers in surrounding mansions called them.
I rolled my eyes, sliding into the seat of the truck just as another part of the house exploded.
Debris exploded outwards, scraps of wood still on fire rained down around the area.
It was a marvelous sight. I smiled to myself as the engine revved, and I turned away.
Try hosting parties now, Daddy.