Chapter 9
“Leah!”
The roar echoes through the house.
Aaron is home.
And he is in a bad mood.
“I have to go, Adam. I’ll call you soon.”
“Wait! There’s something-”
I click off the phone and shove it into the back pocket of my
jeans.
Then I run down the stairs-it’s way easier going down than
up-and follow his hollering to the study.
Aaron is at his computer. He motions for me to sit beside him.
I hold my breath.
Being alone with this man…does something to me.
But dicbalt stay on thisholtetractest of bfghhighs and lows.bdon’t
want to spend what little timechoka vefteftating myself or him.
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sitis dork eyes hold me captive/t’s bo offofficer princess. And I
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Gded englugh fa fick but never to loveve.
elocet Adam po punishing me because i wouldn’t give verim et answersers beusplughtsHis harsh
treatment reflememeacurly liridius witwith gingen dind/feversjessica had taken evholmbnews wamamy
pinpard’s lolololdód from me.
eakingiog.of…
ross to the opposites selside of the room and sweepabelhebevy rtainsiasideidet. Wie harfed gelge of
the expansive grounds,ds, veral footbalb6eldslostimet bestistance,dican make out thehe tting of the
packcarcetneyeity@he headstones look small fromm sidistance: BuBadisa smsiththithatodbad see the
reddishish
black stains.
From my blood, poured on top of each of them.
I’m dying and it’s my blood being used to water the dead.
There is some irony in that, I’m sure.
I feel Aaron behind me before I hear him.
3/5
He crowds me which stirs my body to aching awareness. And even that feels like an insult. That I
should crave this man, that 1 should want to mate and celebrate life, even as my body is eroding on the
inside and edging toward death.
Or maybe it is my imminent death that has me clinging so
hard.
“What’s wrong? Why are you so sad all the time? And where the hell did you go the other day?”
He had me locked up to the point of starvation and I wouldn’t tell him. I cast him a rueful smile.
Whyever would he think I’d
tell him now?
Aaron growls. “You’re very frustrating, Leah.”
But at least he isn’t locking me away or resorting to some
other awful tactic.
“Your dad called the main packhouse,” he tells me.
“I had a bunch of missed calls from him.” When I was imprisoned my phone died and I wasn’t able to
charge it.
“Make sure you call him today.”
With that said, Aaron strides back to his computer. He has several spreadsheets up for stocks he’s
been tracking and I go and sit near him so I can see. Because that’s why my father
called.
To demand that I send him $500,000.00.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmAaron’s busy texting and answering emails from his phone. When it rings a few minutes later, he strolls
out of the study.
I have savings and a decent portfolio that I’ve managed to grow over the years, but that’s still a lot of
cash to ask from one’s child.
In all the texts and missed calls that I see on my phone from my dad, not one inquires about me. They
are all about money.
Leah, I need cash.
Leah, send it now.
And on they went for days. His last ones are threatening and just reading them makes my chest ache
and my stomach pitch painfully.
I transfer the entirety of my savings, so he’ll have access to
several million.
The money is gone.
I wait several seconds.
I don’t get a thank you or even a phone call.
Just a single text: received.
I hate that he never asked about me or in my lack of replies thought to worry or come here to check on
me.
“Your father’s a piece of shit,” Aaron tells me.
12