Page 17 of Ruin

Sometimes I have to stop myself from acting on it.

“Dinner is ready.”

She kisses my dad’s cheek, and walks to the small table we have in the kitchen. We have a dining room, but I don’t think we’ve ever used it.

Waste of fucking money.

That’s all my dad is good for, his money.

Her boobs? Dad paid for them.

The lip injections? Dad paid for those, too.

Botox? Yep. Paid for by my dad.

Mom was never like that. She loved going on family holidays.We have the money, we should make memories with it. I have every picture we took when we were happy.

I sit down and try to ignore Robert as he takes a seat next to me.

Hold it together.

Don’t let him get in your head.

I block out the conversation happening around me, dads talking about a client not handing his accounts paperwork in. The bitch is trying to see if they can go away in a few weekends, just the two of them. Inside I’m praying dad tells her no, and he’s busy at work.

If he leaves, Robert has free reign.

No one to stop him.

No one to walk in on him raping me.

No one to save me.

I flinch when I feel Robert’s hand on my leg.

He pulls my dress up.

I close my eyes.

It’s just like Declan at lunch.

No different.

The tight grip on my thigh.

My dress inching up.

I eat as fast as I can, desperate to escape.

But, I’m not quick enough.

His hand moves inside my panties.

Do not cry, do not cry. He will get his one day.

He leans in and whispers. “I need you.”

He rubs my clit, hard, then moves his hand away.

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