It All Started With Hate

lock | part 1 (e)

Oh my god.

Luke wasn't here, and there was no way he was aware of what was happening here, so he wouldn't be coming back here. My father had known all along, and waited until he could get me alone to strike.

The sound of a shrill-like laugh made me jump. It sounded like the gates of hell being scraped open.

"I have to give it to you, though, sugar," he emphasized, shaking a finger at me. "You're a clever little slut, Maggie. You, somehow, survived every single attempt my men threw at you. You fought this entire time, even though it was all, inevitably, a losing game." A pleased sigh came from him. "It nearly makes me teary eyed knowing that I raised such a strong-willed woman."

I bit into my trembling lip to stop it from giving me away. My everything was worsening the longer we continued on. Every wall of strength I had built was beginning to tumble just from his presence.

This person, this monster had taught me weakness and vulnerability before I could even spell either word. Ten years of trying to unlearn it, half that of faking it, and only one real year of actually doing it was all going to shit around him.

"And, this..." His expression was full of pride as he waved the gun around the house. "You managed to get a Vaudest. A Vaudest, Maggie. Do you know how impressive that is?" He motioned toward the door. "I saw that nice ride just outside, too. And, this place, Jesus. You really had Luke wrapped around your finger, baby." His laugh was short. "What did you do to get him hooked on you the way you did?"

My fists clenched in my lap. I could hear the harsh words dipping in my ears like hot candle wax before they were even said.

"Let me guess..." he tsked twice. "The mayor, his first guess was a little Vaudest baby in your tummy." The taunt in his voice grew. "So, you tell me. Did Luke knock you up, Maggie? Is that how you got all of this and why you've two been so close?"

He wanted to see me break, again, since I had apparently gotten the nerve to forget how to do so when the person who helped put me back together saw me break, yet still thought me just as beautiful.

My father watched me with a mocking eye. I kept my face still, but I couldn't lose the tears in my eyes. To avoid showing them, I kept my gaze on my lap.

"Silly me." The drawl of his chuckle was slow. "I forgot that's not really an option for you, is it, Maggie?"

My hand was already itching for the gun I would hopefully soon hold in it.

"I'll take another guess, then," he said. "This one's obvious. You must have really been satisfying the man in order for him to—"

"Don't say that," I whispered.

His grin widened at my reaction. "I'm just saying. All of those lessons I gave you must have really paid off in order for you to bag all of this just from scratch. I hope I receive the appreciation I deserve—"

My temper hit its peak. "Appreciation?" I hissed. "Are you serious?"

"Watch your mouth, Maggie—"

"You watch your goddamned mouth," I cut over him. How fucking dare he? "Because, if I hear it, ever tell me that I should be appreciative of you doing what you did, of you letting other—"

My words were halted at his next move. All I saw was a flash of him raising up from his chair, then he was looming over me.

My back went against the cushions until it no longer could. He leaned in until his hot, peppermint and beer drenched breath hit my face.