I draw myself up at his crude words. “How fucking dare you?”
“How dare I? You were nothing but a pawn, a play thing, and you killed my son because you thought you deserved some kind of prince charming instead.”
My mouth flops open.His son?I stare at him, completely lost.
Michaels eyes flash. “Yes, you whore. You killed my son. Took me many years to figure it out, but it was you who killed him in that bathroom—you who burned his body like some kind of common criminal.”
A shiver races down my spine. I don’t know how I could have forgotten—Michael was Seth’s father.
“He attacked me,” I state, raising my hand between us to stop his advances.
Michael slaps it away. “You can’t attack a slut.”
It’s Michael standing before me, but it’s my father’s words ringing in my ears. Something irreversible cracks in my chest, every harbored and hidden hurt flooding out of me. The memories I’ve clung to for twenty years pour from my heart in a black flood so thick, I feel my heart slow with each exserted pump.
I don’t know when I pull the gun from the waist of my jeans, but I hold it in the space between us, my hand steady as I point the barrel at Michael’s decaying face.
“Youcanattack a slut. He attacked me, and he died for it. You move, and you’ll face the same fate.”
He laughs, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. “You’re going to kill me? Really? You don’t even know how to wipe your own ass, much less fire a gun.”
And then, he lunges.
I’ve only a split second to decide who I am: the girl who finally succumbs to the horrible circumstance of her life or the woman who wants to be more than the circumstances of her life.
His hand wraps around my wrist with such determination, I feel the bones threaten to snap. I scream, yanking with the full force of my weight, but it’s not enough. He grapples with my gun hand, trying to twist me and, in turn, twist the gun from my grasp.
But for the first time in my life, I feel prepared for this.
To save myself.
I scream again, not out of fear or pain, but out of pure, unfiltered rage and heartbreak. I scream as my knee connects with his balls just the way Faith showed me to only days ago.
Then, I thought I was incapable of protecting myself.Now, I know I have no other option.
He groans, dropping to the ground, his hands gripping the space between his thighs.
“You slut! You’ll fucking pay for that,” he roars, the adrenaline or alcohol making his body seemingly numb to the pain. He lunges again, this time taking out my knees.
I fall to the ground with a sickening crash, my head reverberating against the sand. His weight presses down on me, the full frame of his body settling like a boulder between my thighs. I flail, my free hand scratching at his face, my gun-wielding one gripping the handle with everything I have.
“Give me this fucking gun,” he bellows in my face, spittle spraying.
“Get off me,” I scream back. Finally, I find purchase in his skin, sinking my fingers deeply into his neck, drawing blood.One of his fists connects with my jaw, making the sky fade for the briefest of moments.
When I open my eyes again, he’s reaching for the gun again, a desperate look filling his eyes.
He’s never going to stop.
This is a man with nothing to lose. I’m not the target, just the thing standing between him and his oblivion. I understand him, his rage, his uncontrollable hatred.
But I won’t be him.Not anymore.
I kick up again with enough force that he rolls off me, clutching his stomach. I scramble to my feet, holding the gun up, readying for whatever comes next.
“I said if you attack me, I’ll kill you. This is your last warning.”
He chuckles, the sound sending a fresh wave of goosebumps skittering down my body. His head lulls side to side in the sand. “I’ll never stop until I get what I’m owed. You’ll give your body over, or I’ll fucking take it. One way or another, you’ll be giving me the flesh you so unashamedly took. My son was everything I had.”
