Page 9 of Almost Ravaged (Men of Evercrisp Orchard #1)
Chapter nine
Tytus
P rofessor Davvies’s face is beaten beyond recognition.
He’s slumped on the floor between the built-in bookshelves and his desk chair.
A cough snags my attention. That’s when I discover the other man. The one on the floor at the opposite end of the desk.
A man I know.
A man I loathe.
My father, a man I haven’t seen for nearly a decade, lies on the floor, his body perfectly lit by a sunbeam of late afternoon light streaking in through the bay window.
“Allowance,” he utters.
I freeze, shock clogging my throat.
Mrs. Davvies is dead. Professor Davvies probably is, too.
But my dad… my fucking dad…
He’s very much alive.
“Atty!” I scream.
My dad’s eyes fly open.
“Fuck. Get in here!”
Pushing off the desk, I smash my boot into the bastard’s face. The distinct crunch of his nose breaking is followed by a yelp. Thankfully, there’s no blood. A moment later, he stills.
Keeping one eye on him, I circle back around the desk to Professor Davvies’s lifeless body. Tears well in my eyes as I crouch low. I’m desperate to help. Desperate to apologize. Desperate to delete the last ten years of my life and take away the horror I’ve clearly brought upon this family.
“Oh god,” Atty cries.
“Not him, too. Oh god. Oh god.”
Silent tears roll down my cheeks.
I did this.
They’re dead because of me.
“Dad!”
Atty drops to his knees and lunges forward.
I capture his arm and tug hard, holding him back. “Don’t touch him.”
He scoffs, like I’m out of my mind.
I am.
I’m out of my mind and so fucking sorry. All I want is to swap places with one of them. Both of them.
The Davvies family didn’t deserve this. Just like I didn’t deserve all they’ve done for me.
They’re dead. They died because of me .
“I have to check for a pulse,” Atty argues, yanking against my hold. “We have to call 911.”
“You can’t touch him,” I repeat. “We can’t put fingerprints on anything.”
The fucker across the room coughs, startling Atty. He jolts and swivels away from his dad. Eyes wide, horror and fear twisting his face into a grimace, he looks from the poor excuse of a human on the floor to me.
“That’s your dad,” he croaks out.
As if on cue, the man rolls over and groans.
I’m rooted to the spot. Atty is frozen, too.
Only when a soft sob breaks the silence do we scramble to our feet.
“Sawyer. Get out of here,” my best friend cries, his voice weak.
Sawyer hiccups, then sniffles. “Did he—did he kill them?”
Yes.
But he’s not to blame.
I killed them. Her parents are dead because of me.
“The allowance I’m fucking owed,” my dad slurs from his place on the floor.
While Atty stumbles back, I stride forward, putting myself between this disgusting excuse for a man and the two people I care about most in this world. My dad is injured and probably drunk, but he’s still a threat. He’s done irrevocable damage here today. His terror stops now.
“Five dollars a day. Guy from Ontario told me down at the yard.”
“What is he talking about?” Sawyer whispers just behind me.
I startle at her proximity. “Get back,” I hiss, shifting to position my body in front of hers.
She’s too close. He’s right fucking there.
Panic flares inside me, overshadowing the shame.
“We have to call the police,” Atty says, coming to stand by my side.
I nod, yet I can’t move. Can’t speak. I’m trapped in a paralyzed state of overwhelm and fear. I can’t take my eyes off my father. I can’t look away or turn my back for even a second.
“Not gonna give me what I’m owed,” my dad says, “then I’ll take it. Take my boy before he turns eighteen. Get that money. Ain’t nothing gonna get in my way.”
He groans again, his head lolling from side to side.
I should hit him again. Or lock him in this room until the police arrive.
“If he don’t come, I’ll take it out on those kids,” he slurs. “ Atticus .”
I hold my breath, panic clawing at my chest. He’s with it enough to remember my best friend’s name.
“Atticus,” he repeats. “And his bitch sister. I’ll make ’em pay. Her, especially. They don’t want to give me what I’m owed? I’ll take the allowance directly from her.”
My muscles lock up and my vision goes spotty.
Sawyer squeaks behind me, her fingers digging into my sides in an iron grip.
My dad coughs, then heaves himself to sitting, only to fall back again.
Fury burns hot in my veins.
He can’t have her.
He can’t leave this fucking room after a threat like that.
“Atty.” My voice is eerily calm now that I know what I have to do. “Your dad’s gun safe. Is it still in the same place? ”
Behind me, Atty shuffles across the room, likely headed for the bookshelf. I don’t dare take my eyes off my dad.
“It’s here,” he grits out. “It’s on the floor. He was already going for it. He—” His voice breaks on a sob. “He just wasn’t fast enough.”
Sharp nails dig into my sides. From behind me, Sawyer says, “Ty, no. You can’t. If you get caught—”
I clutch her hands, eclipsing them entirely, holding her to me for one breath.
Then I let go.
“I can, and I will.”
I won’t let him hurt them. Now that he’s threatened Sawyer, I won’t let him even get to his feet.
Atty groans. “No. We can’t do this.”
He’s right. We can’t. But I can.
My dad has to die.
For what he did to me for all those years. For what he did to the only adults who ever showed me unconditional love. For what he’s threatening to do to Sawyer.
He’ll die for all of it.
He dies today.
“We need to get into the safe,” I say calmly. “Atty, can you get it open?”