Page 24 of His to Save

It’s better that way.

But now I don’t know. I just don’t know.

Anxiously, Nora

Dear Diary,

I told him no. I begged him to stop. I pleaded for him to let me go.

But my words fell on deaf ears as he feasted on my pain, savoring each and every cry and whimper.

He took and took and took, until there was no part of me left untouched, no part of me still whole, no part of me untainted by his wickedness.

There’s this deep, pounding pressure in my chest, like the bone itself is caving in and piercing right through myheart every time I think of the cruel words he hissed at me. “Your mama’s gone and I’m a man with needs. Without her here, someone has to step up and fill them, and that someone’s you.”

I didn’t understand what he meant at first. I’ve been doing the cooking and cleaning for months now, even before Mama died. What else could he possibly need from me?

But then his hands dropped to his belt buckle and I knew—I knew exactly what he meant. I was torn between worry for myself and wondering how in the hell Mom was able to “fill his needs” when she couldn’t even get out of bed.

It was in that moment I realized how truly evil Rand was.

I tried to reason with him by telling him I was too young and that I was a virgin—but both of these things only seemed to excite him more. I even threatened to call the cops and he just laughed and handed me his phone and told me to have at it—that his buddies down at the station would probably enjoy the show.

He stole from me the one thing I had left, and now I have nothing.

I am nothing.

Everything hurts. My heart, my soul, and body. I ache in unspeakable places, in unspeakable ways, and there’s no one who can help me. I’m all alone and at his mercy.

I can’t stay here. I can’t! But I know I need a plan to make sure once I’m out, I never have to come back.

Painfully, Nora

Rage and horrorcoil together tightly inside of me, causing a crushing pressure to build beneath my sternum that pushes and presses and swells, until it feels like my heart and lungs might actually explode.

“How in the fuck—” My words stop as a tear falls from my cheek to the page, smearing some of her words.

Holy shit.I didn’t realize I was crying, but how could I not be?

My dad—he raped her.And from the sounds of it, he was doing the same to Grace as well.

He’s a fucking predator—the worst kind, too. The things he’s done are unforgivable. The mere thought of sharing DNA with him makes me sick to my stomach.

Now more than ever, I have to find Nora and make things right. I’m not sure how, but I won’t fucking rest until I do.

DIARY ENTRY, AGE 18

Dear Diary,

It’s my birthday today. I’m officially eighteen—an adult. If my parents were still alive, they’d make a big fussabout today, with a special breakfast and gifts and cake, the works.

But they aren’t. Instead, I’m all alone, locked in the basement again thanks to Rand catching me trying to take some cash he left on the kitchen counter last week. Luckily, he didn’t find the sock full of money inside of my pillow.

After the night Rand—God, I still can’t say it.

Anyway, I cracked open my piggy bank and hid all of the money in it just to be safe. Ever since then, I’ve been keeping all of the cash and change I find on the counter or in the laundry.

I know I’ll need money for when I escape—and I will escape, because there’s something wrong with me, Diary. Something very, very wrong, and I think I need help.

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