Love & Deception by J. A. Owenby

Author:J. A. Owenby [Owenby, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

“Where you been?” Dad growled.

“Dad? What are you doing? You scared me half to death.” I bent over to pick up my purse, and that’s when I saw it. Letters and photos scattered across the table.

“What’s all of that?” I asked, approaching him.

“You know it was your fault, right?”

“What was?” I asked, my forehead creasing. I gasped, the pictures coming into full view. “Where did you get all of these?” I placed my purse on the table and picked one up, flipping it over. Jordan, six months old was scrawled on the back. “Six months?” I asked and sank into the kitchen chair next to Dad. Shocked, I scanned the letters and numerous pictures of my son.

“A little girl only gets raped if she asks for it,” he said, slurring his words.

Horrified, my eyes met his. But I wasn’t looking into the eyes of the father I’d known. This man terrified me. Anger and disgust twisted his facial features into someone almost unrecognizable.

“No, how can you say something like that?” I asked, choking on my fear. “No girl asks to be hurt. Ever.” The hair on the back of my neck stood with my words.

“You wore that short little dress that day, and you were already developed.”

“It wasn’t short,” I fired back. I swallowed hard, trying to control my mouth. Drinking tonight had been a bad idea.

“You were too goddamn beautiful! What man wouldn’t have wanted you?” His fist slammed down on the table, his eyes filling with lust as he scanned my body.

Unable to control it any longer, my body trembled violently.

“Dad,” I whispered. “Please tell me the alcohol has screwed you up. Please tell me you didn’t just admit you looked at your own daughter like that.” I flew out of my chair, barely reaching the sink in time to vomit. Leaning against the counter, I turned on the cold water and rinsed my mouth.

“You asked for it, and God punished you with the pregnancy,” he said right behind me.

I turned slowly, my gaze making contact with his.

“You’re fucking sick,” I spat. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that. I never asked to be brutally raped or to have Jordan.”

Before I realized it, Dad grabbed my arms, his fingers digging into my skin while he shook me. He tossed me down like I was a rag doll, and my skull bounced off the kitchen floor. I whimpered, and nausea swirled in my stomach while I tried to regain my bearings.

“Little bitch. You messed up everyone’s life!” He roared before his foot came into contact with my ribs. My gut-wrenching cry broke free with the contact. I curled up into a ball, fending him off the best I could while his foot made contact again. My mind scrambled for some type of help, but my phone was in my purse across the room, and Ada Lynn wasn’t next door. No one could hear my screams while my father beat me.

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