Tobias (Reynolds Ranch 2)

The second the driver pulls into their long driveway, my sister comes running out of the house and my nephews are clinging to her side running as well. “Uncle!” They run ahead, and I scoop both of them into my arms, giving them bear hugs. I drag my sister in there too, kissing her cheek.

“What are you doing out here without a coat?” my brother-in-law calls out, bringing her shawl and sliding it over her shoulders while rubbing them to warm us. It’s cold, but the sun is keeping it above freezing today. I set the boys down, who immediately run to their daddy.

“I took it off because I got hot and then forgot to put it on when I saw them pull into the driveway.”

“It’s good to see you,” I say, shaking his hand.

“Good to see you, Tobias. Come on in.” I take my suitcase from the driver while my brother-in-law grabs the other one. “Inside, my little terrors.” He takes my sister’s hand and leads her inside.

“How was the trip?” my sister asks as soon as the door closes.

“I slept the entire flight, which was nice.”

“Good. I’m sure you’re hungry, then. I have lunch ready.”

“Starving,” I answer, rubbing my belly before taking off my scarf and coat.

“Good because this woman has cooked enough to feed a wild bear.”

“Uncle Bear,” my nephew cheers, hugging my leg. I scoop him into my arms.

“That’s good because that means I don’t have to roast this scrawny little thing.”

“I’m not food, Uncle.” He rolls his eyes like I’m silly and then hops down.

Chapter Two

Ava

The room spins as I fall against the wall, sliding down to the floor. My face aches painfully, but I don’t have time to process it because he’s looming over me. "Are you going to listen now?" I nod, shaking in the corner and sobbing. Everything that happened in the past ten minutes turns my world upside down.

Lies. The many lies.

I stare at my father, not knowing the man in front of me. His eyes are darker, angry. "I have the power to destroy you. You're my daughter, and that’s the only reason I'm going to let you live. Don't make me regret it. This deal is important to your mother and me. I won’t let you ruin it. You meet with him tomorrow. End of story.” He grabs my hand and helps me to my feet gently like he didn’t just send me to the ground like he was a prized fighter. “Practice your makeup and behave."

"What time is the lunch?" I ask my stepmother, who is standing there as if nothing’s wrong with my father’s fist meeting my face.

“They will arrive around twelve thirty,” my stepmother says, checking her two-thousand-dollar watch, itching to leave for the gala because there are plenty of people she wants to schmooze with while sipping expensive wine.

“Okay.”

“Behave, and we’ll be back in a couple of hours,” my stepmother says, kissing my unbruised cheek. I don’t move away because I want them to think that I will submit as I always do, but not for the same reasons as before. I’m not the scared, desperate girl aching for their love anymore. No, I’ve changed. They’ve broken me in a way that I can no longer remain weak and pathetically hoping for a familial love. This isn’t the first time I’ve been hit like this, but it’s been years since he's been angry enough to hit my face. They didn’t want to leave bruises that people could see.

I am totally out of here very shortly, but they don’t need to know it. My car's outside and with a tank full of gas. I made the trip here for Christmas break and filled up just as I pulled into town. My school's an hour from here at Purdue, so I drove down instead of flying, making sure I had an easy exit.

"Go to your room. We’ll be back tonight." They’re dressed and prepared for hobnobbing with the wealthy and can't risk being late, which means I have just enough time to get out of here before he sends someone to watch over me.

“Yes, daddy,” I answer respectfully as he prefers with that hint of fear in my voice so he believes that I’m truly afraid and submissive. My father owns the cops around here, so he knows I have nowhere to go to tell about the abuse.

A few more months and I'm legally free of their hold on me, but I know that I don't have a few more months. My time to escape, survive is now or never.

The moment his car pulls out of the driveway and travels toward the direction of the expressway, I run to my room. Making quick work, I grab my things that I can fit into one of my duffle bags until it’s completely stuffed. Once it's ready to go, I dash into the kitchen and swipe a banana and a couple of bottles of water for the road. For having money, they rarely have any food in the house. They say it will make me fat to keep the house stocked with groceries, so I’ll pick up more on the road. Besides, I don’t want to waste any more time searching the house, decreasing my time to get out of their reach.