Dark Touch by Aimee L. Salter

Author:Aimee L. Salter [Salter, Aimee L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-02-23T05:00:00+00:00

~

He drives me home and we kiss again in the driveway.

“I forgot to put the new carburetor in Nigel today,” he says.

“Tomorrow?” I’d rather spend it like this. I’ve got a hand on his neck and he laughs.

“Yeah, tomorrow.” Then he turns to me and I feel him. Every tomorrow. Only with you.

I slide out of the Jeep and wave him off. I’m so wrapped up in the giddiness of it all, I forget to pay attention to whether Dad’s truck is outside. When I walk in the door, there are lights on but no sound.

“Hello?” I call hesitantly down the hallway, the burden of this house and my life settling slowly back into place. “You home?”

No answer. I sigh with relief and head into my room to get changed.

—Crack!

My eyes fly wide as my head connects with the hollow drywall, sending a clang through my skull. At first I think maybe the ceiling in my crumbling house has finally fallen in.

Then I see a twisted, unshaven jaw, and I’m bathed in a cloud of stale alcohol and sweat. Dad’s in my face, his hand clawed into my hair. “You’re late. You been out with a boy again, little slut?” On the last word he yanks my head back into the wall again.

I drop to the floor, grasping at his hands, trying to pry his fingers out of my hair.

“I don’t think so.” He pulls me across the room by my hair. I cry out, certain he’ll pull my scalp off. I scramble to follow him, stumble after him out of the room and down the hall, still trying to get a grip on his wrist to stop the terrible pulling. I can hear my hair tearing out of my scalp, each little hair popping under the strain.

He tugs me into the kitchen, then throws me down next to the stove.

“It’s past dinner. Fix me something!” he snarls, pointing at the stove.

“I don’t . . . what?” I’ve got an arm curled over my head to stop him grabbing my hair again. But it doesn’t work. He grabs another handful, lower down this time, and shakes me by it.

“I said fix me some food!” he roars.

Noises creak from my throat. I’m trying to get to my feet—to obey him, or fight back, I’m not sure—but my scalp shrieks and there’s a terrible ripping sound.

Dad’s standing over me, feet splayed, a thin rope of my hair dangling out of his clenched fist, his shoulders heaving. He sneers, and my self-loathing punches at me. Then the rage arrives. It makes me want to hit him so hard I shatter his teeth.

But the part of me that’s still a little girl wants to cry and plead with him to stop because he’s hurting me and he’s my dad.

He leans down. I flinch, but keep an eye on him through the gap between my arms. My breath rasps in and out, too shallow.

“Get up.” He glares. The pale strands hanging from his fingers flutter every time he moves, stuck to the rough and calloused skin on his hands.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.