Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Running a hand down his face, he tried to think, tried to focus, but it was impossible.
Daisy was lost to him.
He had heard tales of people in comas being able to hear, but he couldn’t help fearing she was lost in her own nightmares, with no way of escaping.
Whizz wanted him gone, and he would accept that.
There was going to come a time when Lacey and Whizz went home. When that happened, he would be here.
****
Daisy, Sixteen Years Old - What Really Happened on the Day Her Father Died
This was the last of the money. Daisy pulled the envelope out of her bag and stepped up to the house that looked terrible. She hated this place, just like she hated the trailer where she grew up. She had to either come back to this place or the damn trailer, and most of her nightmares of being trapped were of either place. No matter what she did, she was still trapped by them. No one knew about her nightmares or her fears. There was no point in telling anyone.
Her hands shook. This was not becoming of a Skull.
She needed to get her shit together. The Skulls were not afraid of anyone or anything. As she moved, she couldn’t help but feel the pain in her back. The last time she had come here, it hadn’t ended well. Her real sperm donor of a father had struck her, and he made sure to do it where no one would see. It was like he knew she would try to hide the evidence of her coming here.
She felt sick. Each time he contacted her, it got worse. Not only did he always want more money, but she felt she had no choice but to pull away from her friends. She was a bitch to Tabitha, and she hated it. The truth was, she wanted this to end.
Knocking on the door, she waited, and sure enough, her father answered within seconds.
“Well, it’s about time,” he said, and without turning his head, he gave out a large belch.
She didn’t know what had happened to her mother. The rumor was she had gotten the hell out of Fort Wills after Daisy had been adopted by Whizz and Lacey.
“Well, come in,” her real father said.
The house he lived in stunk. The walls had paper peeling down them, and there was mold everywhere.
Being here brought back horrible memories not even connected to this place, and she was so embarrassed. No amount of deodorant or body spray was going to change the stench that seemed to claw into her paws once she came here. Her father hadn’t even cleaned the place up. She was sure The Skulls had paid him for her, and then moved him out of the trailer park into this house as payment. Only, he’d not kept this place looking as beautiful as it probably had been. He’d allowed it to decay, just like he did everything else. Like she feared he would eventually do to her.
“Where’s my money?” he asked.
She held out the envelope, and he snatched it from her hand and let out a little chuckle.
“Until next time,” he said.
That was it. He was never interested in her, not that she ever wanted his interest.
This would go on and on and on, until there was nothing left. Daisy knew this, and as she stared at him, she didn’t know what came over her, she decided she was not going to risk her life at the Skulls for this piece of shit. He was not her father, and he was never going to be her father.
“That’s the last of it,” Daisy said.
Her father had taken a few steps away from her. He paused and then turned to look at her. “Come again?”
“You’re not getting another penny. That’s it. All of it. I’m not coming back here and you’re not going to come to me, and if you do, I’ll make sure the club knows what you’ve been doing.”
She expected that to be the end of it, and her father would just have to accept it. The Skulls were a group of scary men, and he wouldn’t want to evoke their wrath, would he? That would be crazy.
Then, he started to laugh. “You’re going to bring me double, and you can do so next week.”
“No,” Daisy said.
He took a step toward her, and she wasn’t prepared for the slap across the face. It was open-palmed and wouldn’t leave a bruise, but it took her by surprise. Her father had struck her many times, usually a punch to the gut, not a slap across the face.
Anger rushed through her.
It was strange, a punch to the gut seemed ... different than the slap across the face. No one could see her gut as she kept her stomach covered. She never wore small, revealing clothes, always opting for ones that covered her body.