This Means War (The Virgin Wars Contest)

Chapter Thirteen

{Sara's POV}

"Where is our daughter, Steven? It's been days already," I informed him, catching the stench of the alcohol permeating my nostrils. A sudden feeling of pity overwhelmed me, not only because he hadn't cared about the loss of our daughter,  but also because he couldn't admit that he had a drinking problem. "You said she'd be back by now." My voice was soft, unlike the anger I couldn't show pulsing through me.

He threw his hands up in the air and shrugged. "I thought she would be, Sara! I don't know her as well as you do, okay?" I note of the slur in his voice. Thank God he wasn't being violent, yet.

"No, you're right, you don't know her." I hated this fucking man, with every fiber of my being, and yet, I still loved him. Even after everything that happened between us, and what happened to Aaron...

I forced myself to stop thinking about him. Well, for the moment at least. I had come to the conclusion, after years of struggling, that if I wasn't thinking about him, then who is? "I'm calling the police," I told him as I picked the home phone up off of the receiver. Just as I dialed the number nine, Steven snatched the device out of my grasp quickly and slammed it down. "W-What's wrong, honey?" I could tell my voice was shaky because I was terrified that his mood had changed.

"You were calling the cops to come get me, weren't you?" My pulse quickened and my breaths became audible to only myself.

Licking my lips, I shook my head rapidly. "No, I'm just looking for Brookelyn, I swear. I would never do anything to hurt, you know that." I allowed the words to tumble out of my mouth, my tongue feeling so thick that I swore I could've choked.

A sinister, yet signature, smile curved across his face. "But I would," he stated darkly. I gave him a skeptical look when he took a large step forward. Tears pricked in the corner of my eyes as I slowly backed away. Instantly, my back bumped into the edge of the counter while he continuously grew nearer.

"Steven," I begged out quietly once I noticed his hands clenched into fists. If I didn't do something soon he was going to beat me, again. Except this time, maybe he wouldn't stop. Before I could even comprehend what was happening, I was drawing out one of the kitchen knives from the thick wooden block that held them.

The sharpened Ginsu was pointed in his direction while I gripped it so tightly that my knuckles turned ghost-white. "Stop, please." I knew I was crying, I could feel the hotness of the liquid rolling down my cheeks. As he proceeded to walk closer, I felt my hands trembling in fear - along with the rest of my body. "Please," came out the hoarse whisper.

Suddenly, he held tightly onto my wrist, forcing the blade to fall out of my grasp, causing me to release a screech. With a heart-breaking clink, it slid across the hardwood a good distance away. His large hands that had once been used to abuse were now wrapped around my tiny throat. "Steven," I gasped out through tears. The grip tightened slightly, as the struggle to breathe became greater.

Everything was blurry from the tears, and the loss of oxygen. I'd tried hitting him but it only made things worse. "Please," I begged as I fought for air. It was then that I noticed his face reddening; something he did when he was heated. He was going to kill me. I knew it. I could tell by the look in his eyes.

They were crazed. Prominent crows-feet gathered in the corners as his olive skin appeared to moisten. All I could do was watch as he slowly killed me. I locked my vision on his, refusing to back down. As small beads of sweat dripped off the ends of his graying hair, landing somewhere on his leg, he just continued forcing my pipes closed. Placing my hands of his in a feeble attempt to loosen them, I could feel everything fading in and out.