Page 44 of Do It For Me

I can’t understand what he’s saying. I only know that he starts hitting me, and it hurts. Everything hurts so much.

He unbuckles his belt, and then I feel him near me. One of his hands still points the gun at me.

A scream cuts through the air. My mum bursts through the door, but I can’t look at her. I can’t let her see me like this. I don’t understand what she’s saying, just something about how he’s going to kill me.

She shoves him away, throwing herself over my body, shielding me, but he drags her off, tossing her like a doll. He slams the door shut and shoves the dressing table in front of it to block her from coming back.

Mum pounds on the door, her screams tearing through the house. That must stir something inside my father because, instead of going through with his plan, he hits me over and over again. His kicks keep coming, his words a low, venomous mumble I can barely make out.

Something about this being my fault.

It’s always my fault.

He steps on my chest, and the air leaves my lungs. He stops. A heavy sigh escapes him, as if he’s tired, while I’m left naked, bleeding, and unable to breathe.

He paces through my room, looking for something. Then, grabbing my hair, he dresses me as if I were a doll. A nightgown covers my body, and he tosses the clothes I was wearing next to me. As he throws me to the floor, I hit my head again.

He shoves the dressing table aside and opens the door. I can’t move.

“You’ll stay here until the wedding. This is the last time you’ll disobey me, brat.”

No.

I want to see Dante.

I need him.

“Daddy… please.” I can barely make a sound.

“He’s not going to help you. Not now, not ever. He doesn’t want you and never will.”

“You… you can’t… please,” I manage, but my words are weak and useless.

He stands in the doorway, looking outside. “You must learn where your loyalties lie, ungrateful whore. I’m done listening to your mother. You will be mine now.”

Mum tries to force her way in, but he blocks her with his arm.

“She could die, she could be bleeding—”

“Then she’ll die,” my father says coldly. “She should never have been born anyway, right?”

What?

“Erik—”

“Get out! I’m sick of you too,” he roars.

He slams the door shut, and my mum’s pleas and screams send a shiver down my spine.

I don’t move. I can’t even crawl back to bed.

My phone vibrates in my trousers, but I don’t pick it up. If I do, Dante will find out about this, and nothing can stop my father now.

No one can help me.

IS IT OVER?

I’m starving. I fell asleep after being left alone, and I don’t know what time it is or how long I’ve been out.