The Brink (Unbroken Raine Falling 3)

“Didn’t know that, did you?” Bill looked pleased that he’d thrown her for a loop before his expression darkened again. “But then you had to knock on my door and fuck it up, like you do everything else. Of course, you’ve had this punishment coming for a long time.” He took another pull from the bottle, then traced the scar on his cheek with the neck and sent her a menacing glare. “I owe you for this, Raine. Your daddy means to collect his pound of flesh.”

She tried not to recoil or cry or panic. In the past, she’d had weapons at her disposal, like the knife she’d attacked him with the night she’d run away, Beck and his gun the last time she’d knocked on his door and punched him in the face. Now, she only had her words.

Maybe an apology would make him go easy on her, but Raine couldn’t bring herself to say she was sorry to the sick fuck.

“I’ll make him pay you again,” she offered desperately. “Call him, and I’ll arrange it. He has a lot of money.” She suspected. Hell, she’d never asked. “You want double? Triple? A million dollars? He’ll give it to you.”

“Is your pussy that sweet?” He looked dubious. “I can’t think of a single slut worth that much.” Then a big, evil grin stretched across his face. He took another gulp of the gin, then stumbled as he bent to set the bottle on the ground. When he straightened again, he had his hand at his waistband, his fingers working at the button. “But I’m ready to find out.”

Raine tried to shrink away but had nowhere to retreat. His maniacal laughter filled her ears.

“Let’s get this party started. Oh, I almost forgot…” He swerved alongside her cot, scooped up the bottle again, and disappeared above her head.

Raine craned her neck to see what Bill was up to. All she saw were the legs of a table. He stopped in front of it and swayed, picking up and dropping things with a metallic clang that made her heart race. Dear god, what did he have planned?

“Doesn’t Master Pervert call you ‘precious’?”

Her heart stopped. “H-how did you…”

He laughed. “When I knew he had my baby girl, I followed you around to find out what he was doing to you. I overheard you at dinner a few weeks after you went to live with him. When you weren’t looking, he stared like he wanted to strip off your clothes and fuck you. Were you giving him your pussy then?”

“No.”

“Don’t you lie to me, girl. He plucked that pretty cherry for himself, I know. That’s why he calls you ‘precious.’ Does the Mick have a pet name for you? He should call you whore for giving it up to both of them. Which one of them gave you all the bite marks on your neck?”

“Hammer never laid a hand on me as a kid.” Unlike you. He would never rape anyone, much less an underage girl.

Her father sneered, then turned back to the table. “Next you’re going to tell me he’s a fucking saint. Girl, he’s just a man with a cock who wants to stick it somewhere. Your holes aren’t so special. No slut’s are.” He scoffed. “Your sister’s certainly weren’t.”

“You…violated Rowan?” she choked.

“Oh, I didn’t violate her; I plucked her. I made sure she had a thirteenth birthday she never forgot.”

Raine bit her lip to hold in her icy horror. He’d be far too amused. She was thankful another plane took off overhead, giving her a few moments to gather her thoughts. But nothing came to mind except that she had to be near LAX. She’d love to be on one of those planes—to anywhere. No, where she’d really like to be was back at Shadows, cuddled up between Liam and Hammer, safe in their arms.

“I had…” No idea. But maybe she had. Sometimes, late at night, she’d heard grunting and the slam of Rowan’s headboard against the wall. She’d assumed her older sister had been sneaking in boyfriends. In hindsight, she realized Bill had been far too watchful to allow that.

Their mom had abandoned them two years before Bill had started abusing Rowan. Her sister would have had no way to protect herself or stop their father. Her brother, River, though the eldest, had rarely been home.

In fact, now that she really thought about it, Bill had often taken Rowan shopping. They’d always come home with clothes just shy of indecent, especially nightgowns, bras, and panties.

“You had no idea?” Bill laughed. “She never told you how many ‘favors’ she did for me so that you didn’t have a thirteenth birthday to remember, too? I enjoyed every moment she spent being my dirty whore.” He rocked back on his heels. “Except when the dumb bitch got pregnant—twice.”