Page 94 of Bleeding Hearts

“Your ex-wife was sick, and you were too selfish and cruel to care or try to help her.” My voice is full of anger, hearing him talk down on mental illness the way that he is. “And Kaden is a better man than you could ever be. Probably because he lucked out and didn’t have you in his life.”

“Ah, so you’re speaking to him again. Perhaps I need to go have a discussion with him about staying away from my family.” He smiles darkly, and I grind my teeth as I realize I just gave him the information that he was fishing for.

“Anyhoo, as I was saying before you rudely interrupted me. I was ecstatic at the chance to be able to start over with your mother. Have a new son to mold and shape how I please. A man to follow in my footsteps. But then we found out you were a girl.” Disgust fills his face. “I begged your mother for an abortion, but she refused.”

Pain ricochets through my chest as he speaks, but I don’t let it show.

The few good years I had with my father, where he treated me like his princess. When I thought he adored me, loved me, before things shifted. Even those were a lie.

I was never wanted, at least not by him.

I look over to my mother, her face still blank, but I watch as a single tear rolls down her cheek. I know she’s still in there, trapped by the person she’s become because of him. All of this is because of him.

“I figured we’d just have another child after you. That one would be the son I was waiting for. But there were complications during your birth which led to your mother not being able to conceive again.” He looks at her in disdain before looking back at me. “I tried with you when you were young. I really did. But you were always so stubborn. You could never just do as you were told.” The excuses roll out of his mouth how they always do. Never his fault, always mine, and finally, I’ve had enough.

“You know what, Alexander?” I look him dead in the eyes, using his name instead of father because he never really did deserve that title. “I listened to you blame me for years for your own manipulation and abuse, and there was a time I even thought that I deserved it. But I’m strong enough now to know that I don’t. And I also don’t have to stand here and listen to this. This has been a fun trip down memory lane, but I’m done here.”

His face turns red, and he clenches his fists at his sides, which lets me know it’s time to get out of the house now before it’s too late. My father never did like being dismissed.

I turn around, walking calmly but quickly out of the room. I make it into the foyer, less than ten feet from the door, and I think I’m in the clear when I realize he has followed me.

My father yanks me back toward him by my hair, and I feel the short strands being ripped from my head. For a moment, I freeze. Images of every time my father hurt me play through my mind. Of all the pain he caused. The scars across my body burn at the memories.

And then I remember something else. I remember what I did when he abused me. Nothing. I would sit there and take it because I figured that giving him no reaction was denying him what he wanted from me.

But I’m tired of thinking about him and what he wants or doesn’t want.

In this moment, I think for myself, and I know that sitting here and taking whatever punches he throws my way isn’t what I want.

If you ever want someone to fight the losing battle with you and stand beside you even if we do lose, I’ll support you, Demi.

Asher’s words from when I told him about my father play over in my head.

He may be bigger and stronger than me, and maybe I’ll be fighting a losing battle, but it’s better than not fighting at all.

So, when my father jerks me around so that I’m facing him, for the first time in my life, I fight back. I punch the motherfucker straight in the nose.

He stumbles back for a moment, shock coating his features and I turn to run out the door, but I don’t make it far before he pounces.

Still, I don’t lie down and take it. I kick, and I punch, and I scream. But he continues to gain the upper hand, and before I know it, he has me pinned to the ground, his hands around my throat just like they were seven years ago.

I reach up, using whatever strength I have left to scratch and claw at his wrists, his arms, his face, anywhere that I can reach as he strangles me. But the lack of oxygen kicks in and I can feel the fight leave me.

I gasp for air but can’t seem to get any and I think this might be it.

My father might kill me.

A new wave of determination runs through me, and I refuse to go out this way, at the hands of this monster. I conjure the little strength I have left to attempt to reach up, thinking maybe I can scratch at his eyes with my nails, but before I can reach, my father is gone.

I immediately lean onto my side, coughing and gasping for air as I feel someone come up behind me, hands touching me and a soothing voice that I recognize accompanying it.

Logan.

I look up at her, and she brushes my hair out of my face, talking to me, asking me questions, but I can’t hear her over the ringing in my ears.

I struggle to catch my breath, leaning back into Logan for support when I remember that my father is still in this house.

What happened to him? Who threw him off me?

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