“I do know one thing,” he spits at me. “You have no protection. What do you think will happen when the rest of society finds out you're running around out here in the world, carrying his baby with no protection? They will be lining up to see it ripped from you before you even start to show.”
The thought hasn’t occurred to me that anyone would find out, but this bastard will make sure everyone knows unless I give him what he wants. I skirt the bed and pace at the end, not caring if he has to crane his neck to look at me now. After a moment, I round on him. “What the hell do you want? You haven’t taken enough from me, so you have to take my child, my life from me too?”
“It’s what you deserve,” he says, his tone so full of venom it stings going down even though I don’t care about what he thinks. He advances, moving closer to me. “Your mother died, and you didn’t. In my mind, all these years, I was getting justice for her death.”
I rear back, staring at him, my mouth hanging open. “I was a child. You’re blaming me for my mother’s death when I was a child. How could I have saved her when I barely survived myself? No thanks to you on either account.”
His hand snaps out and strikes me right across the cheek.
It stings, but it’s nothing compared to everything I’ve dealt with from Sal. I barely flinch and continue to look into his old milky eyes. “Does that make you feel manly? Hitting me? Because I have to tell you, Dad, you’re losing your strength. Now get the hell out of here. I'll only say this one more time. Leave now, or I’ll throw you out myself.”
When he stands, I think he’s finally come to his senses and is going to go. Which will leave me the task of figuring out how he found me in the first place before I disappear for good.
But he doesn’t simply stand. He shifts his weight and launches a punch right at my gut. I twist at the last second, his fist hitting my hip bone hard enough to make my skeleton rattle. I retreat, intent on putting distance between us, but he doesn’t let me.
Taking hold of my shoulder, he squeezes hard and rears back for another strike. This time, I block the hit, but it still hurts. I try to wiggle from his grip, but his fingers are strong, and he's holding tight.
Instead, I move so he can’t get a clear strike and has to try harder to keep me in his grip. It takes another moment for me to finally dislodge him and put the bed between us. I’m crying even though I’m more angry or sad than in pain.
“Pathetic,” he sneers.
I swipe at my face with the back of my hand and prepare for his next attack. This time, I won’t let him get a hold of me. He has no idea what I’ve already sacrificed to keep my baby safe. Getting rid of him is nothing compared to ripping my own heart out and leaving it behind.
“Get out!” I scream at him. “Go now or the cops will show up and you’ll have to deal with them.”
He snorts. “And when they show up, they will deliver you right back to your degenerate husband. So you can deal with me, or you can deal with him. And trust me, he isn’t the forgiving type.”
While I fear Adrian’s wrath, I refuse to allow my father to win. Not like this, and not when I’m free of my feelings for him for the first time in my life. Free of his toxicity and free of having to look at his ugly face again.
I hop up on the bed to get to the door, but he intercepts me there. “We aren’t through here. If you won’t let me take care of it, I’ll drag you home and have someone take a coat hanger to you. Then I’ll make sure you’ll never be able to get pregnant again. Your choice.”
I rear back and spit in his face. “Fuck you.”
He sneers and wipes his wrist down his face. “Oh good, you want to fight. The coat hanger it is, and I’ll be sure to tell them you don’t tolerate pain medication well. It’ll teach you the lesson you deserve, girl.”
We struggle, but somehow, he’s stronger than me, tugging me toward the door and fiddling with all the locks. While he’s distracted, I try to yank my arm free, but his grip is like iron, and I can’t shake him off me.
I keep fighting until he curses and digs into his pocket to reveal a stun gun.
No. If he knocks me out, he can do anything he wants to me while I’m unconscious.