Page 21 of Flame
“Answer me!”
“Did you hurt that girl?” I ask instead. God, I can barely get the words out.
But they ring hollow. Laughing, he rolls his eyes. “What girl? Or is this just another game, Hannah? How you avoid blame. There’s always another girl, isn’t there? Like Lexi?” He scoffs when I recoil. “Ah, but you wouldn’t want to use that memory against me, Hannah? When it was your fault that she died. You wouldn’t be trying to delude yourself into thinking otherwise, would you? Enough!” He snaps his fingers. “Come home—”
“You killed her.” My voice breaks, robbing the accusation of any grit. Regardless, I think it’s the first time I’ve ever said those words out loud.
Am I referring to Faith? Or Lexi?
I don’t even know anymore.
Rather than react in anger, Branden just keeps laughing. “Hannah, stop it. You know how crazy you sound?”
He advances another step, and I nearly trip in my rush to put distance between us.
“Don’t touch me—”
“Come home,” he snarls. “Now. While Dad remains clueless about how much of a little whore you really are. While he’s still paying for your fucking, stupid school. But will he if he knows the truth, Hannah?”
I blink in confusion. “The truth?”
His smile turns feral—I’ve taken his bait. “That you’re out here selling sex tapes on the internet while he funds your education? Or your school… Do you think that liberal fucking college would like to know one of their students is an online video star?”
I can feel the blood drain from my face as I stop dead in my tracks. “You didn’t…”
“I will,” he says coldly. “Unless you come with me now. I love you, Hannah, but if you want to act like a whore, I will treat you like one. Now come home—”
“Why?” I demand, evading his grasping hand. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I love you,” he insists. “I do. So, make your choice right now. Come home with me, or learn the hard way—I’m the only one you can ever trust.”
He reaches for me again, but I shirk his grasp. Again. Again. Eventually, several feet of space separate us, but he just watches me, stunned.
“Hannah—”
“I could still tell,” I hear myself say in that stranger’s broken tone. “Daddy. The police. Everyone.”
“Tell them what?”
My heart despairs at the answer. One that’s haunted me for the past ten years. “That you were never worth the benefit of the doubt.”
“You little bitch… If you think I’m the liar, then where is your proof, huh?” He eyes my bag, his nostrils flaring. “Where is it?”
When he comes for me this time, I turn on my heel and run.
“Hannah!” His voice chases me as I dart between two parked cars and cross the street. He’s on my heels. His heavy pants lash at the air, his footsteps slamming against the pavement—but with every step I gain, they grow distant, until only his shouts can reach me.
“I’ll give you until tomorrow night, Hannah. One fucking night! You come to me when you’re ready to learn your lesson, or the world will learn the truth aboutyou—you were always just a lying little whore!”
Tears lash at my cheeks as I keep moving, darting from alley to alley and street to street. Eventually, I no longer recognize my surroundings, and only fear keeps me going, driving me further into an increasingly industrial area where warehouses and office buildings take up most of the real estate.
I’m too busy replaying Branden’s threat to even care that I’m lost. Would he truly do that? Post whatever he recorded on the internet. Make it seem like I did it. Lie. Cheat. All to keep me under his thumb?
The answer sickens me to my stomach—he would. He will.
And I’m powerless to do a damn thing to stop him.
A sudden smattering of noise draws my attention, and I finally falter. At a glance, the street I’m on is deserted, but up ahead, I spot a building that may have been my destination all along—a warehouse near the wharf.
