Shackled Hearts (Chained Hearts Duet 4)

What if I’d let Brody be a man and work as he wanted with no interference? What if I hadn’t been so protective of him? Would things have been different?

Would the now be different?

Rough hands grasp my head and turn it to face Malik. I keep my eyes closed, which pisses him off even more. He slaps me, hard, across my cheek. Still, I don’t open my eyes, even though they’re watering behind the lids from the harsh sting.

“If I knew you would be this much of a difficult bitch, I would have killed you. That would have made my life so much simpler.”

My eyes spring open at Malik’s cruel words.

“Or, you know… you could have not wanted someone who doesn’t want you in return.”

Malik’s grip tightens on my face, his fingers sure to leave bruises in their place.

“You want me.”

I spit in his face, but he doesn’t relent as I watch the saliva run down his cheek. I force my next words out through a clenched jaw, “I put a protective order against you. On what God’s green earth would make you think that means I want you? I never wanted to be around you. You are filth.”

“If I’m such filth, then why did you give it to my son for free?” His eyes go wider, a fire burning in them that’s aimed directly at me, the intensity so strong I can feel the burn.

“Does that bother you so much? That I like the way he fucks over you?”

His hand drops away from my face.

“That I prefer him over you?” I taunt again. I’m not afraid of this asshole. Silly, I know. But when I look at him, I don’t see a scary monster, I see someone who needs help. Fucked-up help, and lots of it.

“I could bring him in here. Maybe I could make him fuck you, and then you’ll be begging for me. You say I’m filth, but my son is worse than me. I have a fascination with hookers, you see.”

I don’t answer his taunts. There is no point.

He nods to me and stands, leaving me on the bed. At least he hasn’t tied me to it like his son did.

“Ah, so that makes you quiet. Maybe that’s what you want? A little father-son action. I hear you call him Daddy. Do you want to call me that?”

My eyes lock on to his, my brows pulling together, but I don’t move nor do I say anything else.

He doesn’t deserve my words.

Because he is filth.

Worse than slime on a putrid lake.

“I don’t kill my fucks, but he does, yet you still want him?” Malik’s head drops to the side. Again, I choose to remain silent. He huffs and walks to the door, looking back at me before finally pulling it open. “If I see you walk out this door, I will put a bullet in you, then I will fuck you after. No matter if you enjoy it or not. No matter how much pain you are in.”

Nothing.

I have nothing.

No words can leave my mouth.

My jaw is locked tight.

He huffs again, then leaves.

Goddamn asshole.

Managing to sit up farther, I look around the room.

It appears I’m in a bedroom.