Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“I know what I’m doing,” I said. “I promise. This is the best thing I can do for myself right now. And I need to go.”
“If you walk through that door,” my father bellowed. “You are done with this family. You didn’t accept our help, Sapphire! You walk out of here, you are done!”
Mom sobbed harder. I took a good, long look at the two of them.
And I left.
I left my old life behind, finally.
I chose him.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
He advanced on me the moment I came into the apartment. My hands were shaking and I dropped the key, tried to bend down to pick it up, but King smacked my hand away.
“I’ve been fucking calling you!” he said. “And you’re two hours late, Pet.”
“I’m sorry,” I muttered.
“Not fucking good enough,” he said. “Not good enough!”
“I… I had to get away,” I said.
“From me?” He was really upset.
“No,” I muttered. “Not from you.”
From me.
From myself.
“I don’t believe you.” He rubbed his temples. “I fucking don’t! You want to get away so badly, don’t you?”
I shook my head no and he paced the room. He didn’t say a word.
“Maybe I’ll leave for a while longer,” I said, feeling numb. “Go… somewhere, I don’t know.”
“Please.” He never said that word. When I looked into his eyes, I could see how hurt he was. “Don’t go.”
“I have to,” I said. “I have to, I can’t be here right now.”
I wanted him to stop me.
So.
Fucking.
Badly.
But he didn’t.
I walked out of that door, and as soon as it closed behind me, I collapsed in the hallway, pulling my knees to my chest and holding back the sobs.
And then I picked myself up, and walked out of there.
I knew how to pretend everything was okay by now, and do it well.
After all, I’d had a lot of practice.
Sixteen
King
Life without Pet wasn’t worth living.
Of course, I’d known that for a while. Ever since she stumbled into my life and showed me her everything.
It had only been two days and I was going stir-fucking-crazy. She’d left a gaping hole behind, but I kept my distance. I knew it was important for her to come back by herself. This time, I had no plans of dragging her back home. She needed to realize where she was supposed to be.
I blew off work, and spent the time alone digging. I needed to fucking know, and I was no closer to finding out who had abused her.
But then, on a rainy afternoon, I finally made some progress.
I had gotten Pet’s school records a few hours prior, and had been putting off going through them. I’d pulled on so many strings to get those files, but now that I finally had them, the prospect of what could be inside terrified me.
Finally, I poured myself a Scotch and sat down with my glass in hand, opening the heavy file.
Her name stared at me from the paper, offensive and inappropriate. She’d only ever been Pet to me.
I read through her file. Her grades had been average, though several tests she’d taken indicated a higher level of intelligence. There was nothing special in terms of disobedience, she’d been written down for being late here and there, but that was it.
Until I hit the jackpot.
A file from the school counselor, who had arrived at her school a year before Pet graduated.
It was brief, to the point, and eye-opening.
The notes the counselor had made on her were clear, words scribbled in tilted handwriting. They felt like bullets to my chest.
Impulsive.
Reckless.
Emotional.
Self-harm.
Anxiety.
Boredom.
Emptiness.
Unstable.
My Pet, in those barely legible scribbles that devaluated her from a person into a textbook case.
I got so angry I nearly tore the file into pieces. Instead, I set it down, and dug up some dirt on the school counselor on my phone.
Mr. Davies. Ezra Davies.
He was a middle-aged man. Handsome enough, according to my image search, not balding, either. Not that I should’ve given a shit, but Pet being in the company of a man like that, him analyzing her, trying to understand how her pretty mind worked… it set me right the fuck off.
I found his phone number and called without a second thought.
He was working as a therapist now. I got through to his secretary and faked my way into a meeting with Mr. Davies. I name-dropped my own name and she got me an appointment in the next hour. I got off the phone and grabbed my shit before heading to his office.
I tried not to think about my Pet, and where she could be, but fucking failed.
I made a quick call to someone I trusted to make sure she was fine, and headed out the door.
“Let’s be honest with each other,” Ezra Davies said with a smooth smile.
I shifted on his uncomfortable couch, wondering how he expected anyone to talk to him openly while sat on such a shitty piece of furniture.