Page 55 of Break

I thought I was screwed before, but now, seeing this, feeling all this, I know there’s truly no going back. No more hiding. No more running.

As I’m his.

I’m theirs.

They’ve made that crystal clear to me, and I’ve spent so long fighting them about that, refusing to admit out loud that we’re bound in ways that I’ll never experience with anyone else. It’s almost a relief to admit it, even if it makes my nerves heighten.

What does that mean for me? For us?

My phone buzzes on my desk and I come out of my haze.

A single message pops up.

It’s from Coach Carpenter.

Hope, can you meet me at the hospital? Jared’s getting discharged.

My breath staggers, and I swallow before I respond.

Of course, Coach. See you in a bit.

I grab my car keys and head out without a glance at my shadows. I just want to get this over with and never see Jared again.

And it’s better that he leaves, ’cause I think the guys would rather see him dead with all they found in his apartment.

I fumble with my keys and unlock my car. My hand clutches the handle, and the horror movie theme song blares from my phone.

My car keys drop to the floor, and I forget to breathe, my vision threatening to blur as I stare down at the caller ID.

How can he call me again? That’s impossible.

With an unsure breath, shaking hands, I grab my phone. But I’m frozen, staring at the screen that saysDad.

No. He’s locked up. I thought… I thought it was over with.

“Aren’t you going to pick up?”

I still can’t move as I stare at the car window, seeing him in the reflection as he slowly approaches me with a cruel grin on his face.

“You’re not here,” I whisper as tears brim my eyes.

I was free. Safe.

“Did you really think some bars could keep me?” He laughs, and I slowly turn with a glance to the ground.

My car keys lie beside my feet, but will I be quick enough?

“It’s time to go, Hope. You stayed away far too long,” he says, not a slur in his voice.

“Just let it be, Dad. Let me move on, please,” I beg him, despite knowing that my pleas fall on deaf ears. He will never leave me alone, never let me live my life in peace.

He just sees me as a doll to torture.

He scoffs. “You’re mine, and I’m not letting you be here with them. You’re coming home, where you belong.”

“Come on, Dad. Mom wouldn’t want this.” I try to get through to him, hoping there is still a grain of humanity inside him.

“Mom?” His laughter gets louder. “What does she look like? Do you even remember her?”

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