"Now, you're talking." He pinches my tits so hard I know it'll leave a bruise. I follow him into the impressive bar off the entrance hall. It's large enough to fit a crowd. There's a stripper pole in the middle of the dance floor. He follows my gaze and smirks.
He pours me a bourbon, the absolute worst, and one for himself. Pulling out a small packet of white powder, Rob pours a line on the bar counter. He mixes some in his drink, stirring it with a plump finger.
“You a virgin?” I frown, not quite understanding what he means. “To this,” he motions to the coke.
“Oh, yeah.”
He snorts a laugh. “Didn’t think I meant that pussy, did ya? No kid of Billy's would be a prude."
For your fucking information, I only ever had sex with one man my entire life, and I paid him for it. Billy liked to torture me, starve me, and beat the shit out of me, but she never let a man near me. Maybe I can thank her for that, at least. She was never interested in whoring me out, and she hated sexual predators.
He looks at my tits, and I attempt to cover them by crossing my arms. He shakes his head. "I like looking at them while I snort. Maybe after we're done, I can snort some off you."
I laugh. That'll be the fucking day. He snorts an the entire line then downs his drink. While he's snorting another one, I take one sip from the bottle and empty the rest of the glass into the fish tank that lines the bar counter.
I pretend like the alcohol burns. He snickers. "Let's sit down, shall we?"
I follow him to a couch against a wall. This room has no cameras, and from my observation, the entrance doesn't either. Someone like Rob wouldn't have one. I've seen the way he looks at younger girls. I have no doubt he brings them here, drugs them, and does whatever the hell he wants to them. He sits, downs his second drink, placing it on a side table. When I move to sit next to him, he shakes his head, patting his lap. I smirk. "I need one more drink."
“What, Daddy doesn’t do it for you?” He grabs me by the waist, pulling me forward. This could escalate very quickly.
“It’s for the nerves.” I lie. I walk over to the bar, shaking my ass for show. I have to get him high, and he isn’t nearly high enough. I know he has a heart problem. My mother always said he was a stallion in the sack for someone so susceptible to heart attacks. I reach into my back pocket for my own stash and mix nearly half the packet of methamphetamine into the bourbon. I got it off a junkie that knew Billy. I know it’s fatal to mix drugs, and that is just what I’m aiming for. I walk over and offer him a glass. He takes it and drinks half of it before setting it down. “You owe me a lap dance.”
He grabs me by the wrist, tugging me down until I’m straddling him, his disgusting face buried between my breasts. “Don’t you want to take it down a notch?”
“I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you, I’ve waited long enough. I’d have taken you both if Billy hadn’t been such a selfish whore.”
Rob met me when I was fifteen. He really is a pervert.
He grips my hips and starts to push his hard-on into me. It is so disgusting I have to gag. Thankfully he's too busy sucking on my tits to notice. "This is what you wanted, you little whore," he tells me.
He stops sucking and throws his head back. “What the fuck? I feel light-headed.” He shoves me off him and reaches for his drink. He shakes his head vigorously. “What the hell did you put in my drink?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I stand and move away from him. He’s sweating and out of breath. He tries to stand, but he’s too disorientated. I laugh.
He looks at me, his eyes rolling back into his head. “Bitch,” he spits.
He falls onto his side on the sofa. He’s harmless in this state, but I have to get this fucker off his side. I use all my strength to sit him upright. I run out into the foyer and get my bag. I put my shirt back on feeling more in control with clothes on. I grab my powder and prepare a syringe. I walk over to Rob and turn his arm over feeling for a vein. When I find a responsive one, I inject it in slowly, making sure the wound doesn’t tissue. It has to look like he did this.
"You did this, Rob, you did this," I tell him. I feel his pulse, and it's still strong. A few more of these ought to change that.
I leave his home seven hours later, my mission accomplished. Part of me wanted more of a fight, but he deserved to die the way she did. I drive back to Billy's and sleep in my old bed. This chapter of my life is closed. It was necessary. Closure is what we all seek, but we fail to understand that we have to create it at times. Closure isn't closure until someone decides it is until you shut that fucking door with a bang.
Now you have my focus,Sin. You have my full attention.
Chapter 23
Sinclair
It doesn’t matter where you go, I'll always find you.
The more you fight me, the worse off you’ll be.
You did the crime, now do the time.
P.S. Willow says hi.
There is no sender, just a letter under my parent's door at eight p.m. It slips from my hand and falls to the floor, and I join it a few minutes later. My limbs feel like lead, and numbness I never felt before comes over me. It is one thing to be framed for murder, to be cheated on, to be lied to. But to have my daughter taken? That is a whole other pain. One I was not ready for. My father rushes to me. "Sinclair, what is wrong, honey?"
