“What are you doing, Colin?” she screamed. His head snapped up, and he charged over to her.
“You know the rules, Paula. Don’t speak to me unless I speak to you first. I will discipline my daughter however I see fit.”
“That wasn’t the deal,” she says.
“I make the deals, and I can change them whenever the fuck I want to.” Then he wrapped his hands around her throat. “It’s time I traded you in for a younger model. A bitch who will give me sons,” he screams at her. Then she starts to fight back. A mistake. They tumble to the floor, and he pulls his switchblade from his boot. She’s looking right at me when he stabs her for the first time.
“Close your eyes, baby. Don’t look at this,” she says. That’s the last thing I ever hear her say because my dad just keeps stabbing her. She doesn’t even scream. The expression on her face is one of peace and contentment. I’ll never forget that look or the sound of his maniacal laugh as he does it, over and over again. I had been screaming but didn’t realize it because suddenly the apartment burst open, though splintering into a million pieces would be more accurate. The police look around the room before they say anything. Even for New York, the scene is grizzly. There’s blood everywhere. They are only a few feet away from me.
“NYPD. Drop the weapon and put your hands up,” the officer finally shouts. My dad moves like he’s going to comply, but at the last second, he swipes the blade across his throat, and I am hit in the face by the hot spray. I keep screaming. I can’t stop screaming. Eventually, I had to be sedated. I woke up in the hospital, with lots of things broken and an orphan. Things moved quickly after that, and I ended up in Atlanta, where Lilith found me and offered me a chance to change my life.
I am still screaming when I wake up in his car. We are speeding down the interstate toward downtown. He quickly pulls over onto the shoulder of the next exit ramp.
“Holy shit, Riley. Are you alright?” he asks, sounding panicked. He’s probably pissed. I am sure that I scared the shit out of him. I hope to hell he’s not like my dad. The mob has left a bad taste in my mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” I say and immediately burst into tears. “Please, please, don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad, peaches. I’m worried about you,” he says, reaching his big arms around me. He unbuckles my seatbelt and lifts me into his lap. I sob into his chest like a little girl because I feel safe, really safe, for the first time in a year. He rubs my back while I do so. This is decidedly non-sexual, but I am not exactly making a sexy first impression. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” I sob, shaking my head. “Yes.” I nod my head this time.
“Let’s get you home. We can talk there. Can you climb back over?”
“No,” I say. Being held by him feels so right, even though I know what he does, at least what the news says he does.
“Alright,” he says, adjusting me on him. I am plastered to him, my face buried in his neck. The next thing I know, he’s put the car back into gear and pulled back into traffic, with me on his lap. I swallow thickly.
“Thank you,” I whisper. I don’t even care how weak I feel and sound right now.
I watch the glass buildings streak by as we head down Peachtree Avenue until we pull into an underground parking garage where he whips into a space.
“We’re home,” he says, opening the car door. Somehow, he manages to get us both out of the car without any issues. I am hiccup sobbing; you know, the kind where you can’t breathe and look super great while doing. Even holding me, he manages to get my bag and box from the trunk, my purse is a cross-body style, so I’m wearing it.
He has to set everything down to put his palm on the scanner thing for the elevator to work, and I feel bad about that.
“You can set me down. I can walk. I’ll stop crying now.”
“Nonsense. We’re almost there.” The doors open immediately, and he kicks my stuff inside and walks in. He pushes the P button, and the doors close. The elevator ascends slowly. He’s careful with his hand placement on my body, but damn I want those giant hands on my ass.
The elevator opens into a foyer. Marble is everywhere. He kicks my stuff again into the entryway and sets me down on my feet.
“Welcome home,” he says, looking down at me. I lick my lips, and he groans. “Don’t do that,” he says.