Play Me | ✓

Chapter 45

Vincent, on the other hand, has a white shirt on and a belt in his right hand. I watch the white shirt dip into his back as his arm winds back and a dimple forms. In a quick motion, I hear the whip of the lash and then a helpless groan out of Kai's mouth.

"Vincent!" I yell. "Stop!"

Ignoring my plead, he takes another swing with the belt.

"Vincent!" As soon as I reach him, I push him away using all my force.

A gasp escapes my lips as I see Kai's body.

"Kai?" my fingers touch his wounds, but he winces and I pull my hand back. "Can you hear me? It's Summer, Kai."

I see his eyelids fidget, but since they're swollen, he can't open them.

"Get out of the way," I hear Vince's heavy voice trying to dominate me. I turn around and face him.

His shirt covered with Kai's blood and sweat, I look up at his face. He holds no regret, just rage in the waves of his irises.

"Kai isn't yours to toy around with," I tell him.

"So then who's is he?" Vince questions taking a step forward. My eyes fall down to the belt still in his hands before I cautiously answer.

"He's no one's property. Get away from him," I warn using my inside voice. Yelling will only rile him up and I don't want to risk getting whipped by the belt in his hand.

"Or what?" Vincent closes the distance to only inches.

I hold myself back from shaking under his gaze and keep a firm hold of my stance.

"Vincent, get away from me or I will kill you."

"Kill me, huh?" Vincent backs away and flashes a sinister smile. "Have you forgotten? I've taught you everything you know."

"Vince," I warn.

"You're not my sister," Vincent grits. Before I can react his hand wraps around my throat.

"V -Vi -ince," I choke and try to loosen his grip.

"You should've died three years ago," he threatens. His eyes darken with more rage and I feel helpless. The fingers around my throat aren't teasing, but suffocating me in a manner that I can't even get a bit of air through to my lungs.

My eyes find his left hand holding a knife.

"V -ince, n-no!"

I close my eyes preparing for the pain, but instead, I feel the grip around my throat disappear. I fall onto the ground and start to cough out my lungs.

I claw at my own neck as it feels like the hands are still around me. When I find nothing, I massage my neck as I breathe heavily. I see the knife on the ground and then hear a loud slap echo in the room. Lifting my head, I see Vincent doubled over to the right.

"I should've done that a long time ago," I hear my father spit. "Get out."

Without any defiance, Vincent walks out.

"What are you looking at? Help him down!" my father instructs his men.

"Summer?" he kneels down.

"Don't," I move back when he tries to see the marks on my throat. His hand lingers in the air. It encloses in a fist before he pulls his hand back and sighs heavily.

"Dean, help your sister back to her room," he orders while getting up.

"No," I hold out my hand out preventing Dean from getting any closer.