Page 9 of Submission

“Dad won’t like it when I tell him how you’re talking to me.” She taps her long, coffin-shaped nails on the table.

“Well, he can add that to the list of things that piss him off about me,” I say harshly, trying not to betray the sudden fear of the threat.

As long as he gets money from me, I’m safe.

Rachel’s smile slips.

“Maybe I should tell Daddy that he should pay you a visit now that I know where you live.”

Normally, a threat like that would have me shaking in my boots, but it’s been two years since I left my home. I walked out of that house, a shell of a human being, my hands stained with blood,blood that I still can’t wash off.But a lot can change in two years.

“I don’t have time for your fucked up games, Rachel.” I stand to my feet. “Next time, don’t message me trying to threaten me with the past. The past is where I left it, behind me.”

I’m about to walk past her when she grabs my wrist, digging her sharp claws into the inner side of it. She looks up at me, and when I meet her gaze, for a short moment, I feel like I’m looking into my stepmother’s eyes, those same cruel, soulless eyes.

“Don’t think that just because you got away from the house, you can act so high and mighty with me.” Her words are a vicious whisper. “You keep forgetting your fucking place.”

My place.

A sharp strike on my back from a cane.

My place.

My face was forced down into a bowl of urine.

Memories that I continually keep trying to bury deep inside of me force their way to the surface, and I snatch my hand away.

“Touch me again, Rachel, and I’ll make sure you regret it. Stay the fuck away from me!”

My voice projects my warning loudly, and I can’t help but notice as patrons of the cafe turn their heads in our direction. Rachel blushes with embarrassment and forces a smile on her face.

“You’re overestimating your worth. All I have to do is go home and tell Dad that you hurt me and all the money in the world won’t matter to him. If you think living at home was difficult, you’ll just end up being somebody’s bitch in prison.”

I go still, fear of her very real threat sits bitterly in my mouth.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rachel. We’re not kids anymore, and Dad isn’t stupid.”

The demon smiles broadly and I know that she can tell how she’s managed to get under my skin. She was always better at this game than I ever was.

“I can call him right now and tell him how you’re treating me today, or you can sit your fat ass back down and–“

“Megan?”

A deliciously cool voice calls to me from behind, and suddenly, the sense of relief that fills me almost makes me stagger. Hunter’s hand is firm as he glides it across my waist, settling it on my hip.

“What’re you doing here?” I ask with more gratitude than he’ll ever understand.

I don’t get a chance to say anything else because Rachel is on her feet, batting her false eyelashes at Hunter. It makes my stomach roll.

“Hi, I’m Rachel, Megan’s sister.”

The look in her eyes is so familiar that my palms grow sweaty. It’s the same look she once had in her eyes when she saw me with a boy when I was seventeen. That desire to take what is mine has led to consequences that are now wrapped like chains around my arms and legs.

Hunter looks at her and then at me and his voice is his usual steady sound, “Hunter.”

He doesn’t look very interested, but of course, Rachel doesn’t care. She steps closer to him, playing with a long strand of her hair, a coy look in her eyes.

“So, how do you know my sister?”

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