Page 20 of Psycho

What the hell was Dad doing with someone like that?

I knew the illegal things Dad got into, especially with his underground cage fighting matches, some of which had been to the death—those had always been the hardest ones for me to witness.

But this man sitting in our trailer…

I swallowed and moved back a step, making the man’s smile widen.

Dad finally noticed where his companion’s attention was. He turned and took me in.

There was just something about the look in his eyes…

I didn’t like it.

Not one bit.

“Ah, Lainey. You’re home. Why don’t you come on in, sweetheart, and say hi to our guest.”

I hesitated at the door for only a brief second until I found Dad’s eyes turning hard.

Slowly, I walked over to them, making sure to keep out of grabbing distance from either man.

I held my breath as the prominent cigarette smoke penetrated through before I turned my attention to the man and cocked my head to the side in greeting.

The man laughed, and I flinched.

“Doesn’t your little girl speak?”

I worked hard to keep my emotions from showing on my face.

I was Ozzy Reyes’ daughter, but the way his mouth formed around the two words “little girl” and how he was eyeing me up and down…

I had the sudden urge to take a scalding hot shower.

“She does,” Dad said. “She’s just being shy.”

More like cautious.

I wasn’t shy.

I was taught to be reserved.

He taught me that painful lesson many years ago.

“Shy,” the man said, his lips smacking together before he took a long drag of his cigarette. “I like that in a girl.”

I didn’t say anything to that.

Dad let out a sleazy laugh.

I blinked and turned my focus to the front door, trying to think of a plausible excuse to leave this trailer that wouldn’t incite Dad’s anger.

My attention was diverted back to the men when Dad reached over and grasped my chin, pulling me closer to the table.

I looked at him, panic clear in my eyes, though I didn’t make a single noise. The dull edge of the table pressed in on the lower portion of my stomach, and I took in both men.

“Lainey can be shy,” Dad said, and it didn’t sound like a compliment.

It sounded like a dictate, a sign of him telling me to be like a chameleon and be whatever the man wanted me to be.

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