“Be smart, baby girl. Never foolish. Think fast. Don’t hesitate. First instinct is always right in our world. If you are ever in any danger, you think about what Daddy would do.”
Daddy…
Those words.
I was eleven when he said that to me, and I will never forget it. I got into my first fistfight at the age of fourteen. I beat her up so bad that I was expelled from school and forced to transfer to another. The other schools didn’t want me, so Mom home schooled me.
It was the best decision she ever could have made.
She said it every single day we had class in the kitchen over hot meals and snacks.
Think about what Daddy would do.
I’ve seen Daddy in action.
I’ve seen him angry.
I’ve also seen Toni angry and neither of them held back on their actions.
They unleashed a wrath like none other.
They destroyed without thought—demolished without restraint.
It used to confuse me to know they killed. I used to hate Daddy for coming home with bloodstains on his shirt and a gun with a hot barrel.
I used to be furious when Toni would say it was just business and that it had to be done.
But now…I get it.
Because twisted, sick fucks like Axe Man don’t deserve second chances.
Twisted fucks like him deserve to die.
When I hear his belt buckle jingle, that’s when I make my move.
His hand is on the base of my skull, forcing my cheek on the cold wall as he tugs at his zipper and squirms out of his pants and underwear.
But he’s a fool to think I’m weak. I got him before. What makes him think I can’t again, but much worse this time?
When he pulls that hand away, I elbow him in the face, dip from in front of him, and dash for the chair.
He grunts and chases after me, catching me by the hair and yanking me back. When he gathers me in his arms, he punches me square in the face with a large fist, returning the vicious blow.
Blood leaks down my already fucked-up nose.
My mouth instantly aches, and I cry out, shoving against him.
I don’t stop fighting. Because Daddy wouldn’t stop fighting. Toni wouldn’t stop. Momma didn’t give up or give in to her disease, even when she knew she was going to die.
“GET OFF OF ME!” I scream, clawing at his face, using all of my strength.
“Shut the fuck up!” He grunts heavily as he marches forward and shoves my face on the wall again. He presses my naked body on it and then something hard presses into the center of my asshole.
The dry run he shoves in is so fucking painful that a heavy gasp fills the cellar.
He has his disgusting cock in my ass, my hair in his hands, and he slams in roughly, stretching me wider.
“You are the most hardheaded bitch I know. Just shut the fuck up and take it!” he barks as I shriek in pain. “You can stab me, fight me, and even have Draco beat the fuck out of me, but you knew by the end of this shit I would get what the fuck I wanted.”
He buries his face into my hair and inhales my scent.
But I can’t even be repulsed by it because the unwanted tears streaming down my face are hot and thick and they tell me everything. I am afraid. I can’t do anything.
His cock is shoving in deeper and deeper. He has me pressed so close that I can barely breathe.
Even as I squirm, I can’t find a way out.
I keep looking towards the chair, hoping—no, begging it to come closer. But it’s still there. Too far to reach.
He grunts harder, plunges further, his rough skin clapping on my backside.
“Fuck, you have a tight ass. I knew it would be. Tight as fuck. Now it’s time to feel that tight fucking cunt of yours too.”
He yanks himself out, gripping the back of my neck with one hand, using the other to spread my legs further apart. He’s breathing heavily, trying to aim for my most sacred area, but I won’t let him have it.
I jerk my hips sideways—anywhere away from him.
He becomes angry and draws my upper body back just to slam my face into the hard wall again. I feel my stitches pop, and my nose cracks again. Blood drips down from somewhere—I don’t know where.
He presses his cock at my entrance, but I jerk sideways again.
“Stop!” I croak, but it’s useless and barely audible.
He slams my face on the wall again, trying to get to me to cooperate. I don’t give up though.
He pushes one of his knees down on the back of my thigh and glides his cock into my ass again.
Rougher, drier strokes.
I whimper, and then cry out again, my hair blending with the tears.
His sweat drips down my back as he leans in and sucks the skin on my shoulder. He’s pumping in and out of me, and I wail for somebody—anybody—to help.