Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“I’ve been watching you all day. You’ve been spending half the day tending to that damned leg of yours.” He looks to the calendar on the wall. “Wedding’s in a week. If you don’t speed up, your poor mother won’t get the wedding she deserves.”
“She’s not my—”
Bill slaps me. Hard. Harder than Emmy ever did. I fall to the floor, right on top of my injury. White-hot pain sears through me.
“She’s done more for you than your real mother ever did. She’s kept a roof over your head, food in your belly. The least you can do is be grateful, you little whore.”
Whore?
Not brat, not snot. But whore.
He chose a sexually loaded insult. The kind a father figure should never use.
I try to get to my feet, but Bill kicks me flat in the chest and I fall backward. The shirt I’m wearing busts open, my breasts falling out.
Bill ogles me. “Didn’t realize you were so stacked. Fuck, Thea.” He fondles himself through his pants. “You get those milkers from that mommy you love so much?”
I want to throw up. I’m fifteen. Bill has to be pushing fifty. No way he thinks talking like this is right.
But I don’t think he cares.
He closes in on me, his eyes not leaving my breasts. “Maybe your cunt of a mother did do something for you.”
I try to cover myself, but I’m frozen in place. Adrenaline is surging through me, but I can’t move an inch.
What can I do?
We’re the only house for miles. Kettle Springs is huge, and most properties have several acres’ worth of land. You can do pretty much anything here and no one would know anything about it.
Bill gets on his hands and knees, sniffs my neck. “You smell fresh, Thea. Fresher than your Emmy ever could.” He sticks out his tongue and licks a line down my neck, stopping just at the top of my cleavage.
“Please…”
He raises his eyebrows. “Please what? Please fuck me? Is that what you want, you little slut?” He brings his mouth right to my ear. “You want my big manly cock inside that sweet little virgin pussy?”
I ignore the fact that I’ve been called a virgin and a slut in the same breath and gather the tiny amount of energy I have to spit directly in Bill’s face.
“Little bitch!” He wipes my saliva off his cheek. “You’ve got fire. Just watch to make sure it doesn’t engulf you completely.” He crouches down and grabs my injured thigh, squeezing it right along the stitches. Parts of my wound start oozing blood and pus. I let out a scream from the pain.
Bill chuckles darkly. “I’ll let you go this time. But start working faster, or I’ll rip this wound open myself. And this time we won’t be going to the hospital to get it patched back up.”
He lets go of me and my leg clatters to the floor. I start crying.
“And get a new shirt, slut,” Bill says. “I don’t need to be tempted by those creamy tits.”
32
AUS
Thea’s been crying on Wick’s porch for a few minutes now. I’ve been doing everything I can to comfort her.
But she’s right.
I can say the words “circumstantial evidence” until I’m blue in the face. We could hire her the best lawyer in the state of Illinois. It won’t matter if the forces conspiring against her are strong enough.
I don’t say that, of course. That’s the last thing she needs to hear right now.
Or maybe it’s not.
Maybe I need to stop treating her like she’s a fragile snowflake.
Because she isn’t. Thea is strong. And whispering little nothings in her ear, telling her everything’s going to be all right? That’s not what the doctor’s ordering right now.
“You know, Thea? You’re right.”
She lifts her head. “I’m right about what?”
“About being fucked.”
She narrows her eyes. “Thanks.”
“No. Just listen. You are right. It doesn’t look good. The odds are stacked against you. But maybe… Maybe we’ve been going about this wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve been searching for evidence to prove you’re innocent. Maybe we need to start looking for evidence that proves someone else is guilty.”
She runs her hands through her hair. “How do you suggest we start doing that?”
“We start where anyone would start. The scene of the crime.”
She bites her lip. “You mean where the big stone was dropped on Kin?”
“I mean exactly that.” I help her to her feet. “Come on, let’s go.”
Yellow tape ropes off the crime scene. No surprise there. Kin’s body is gone, only a ghostly chalk outline marking where he was found. The tractor that dropped the stone is still there, a placard posted to it noting that it’s not to be used for further construction until the investigation is complete. The large stone that crushed Kin is absent, probably since they had to remove it to get his body out of there.