Page 80 of Phantasm

“Scream, whore. Let your husband hear how much it hurts. And your kid, too. Where is that little brat? You hid him somewhere, didn’t you? HEY, KID! COME OUT, COME OUT, AND I’LL STOP HURTING YOUR MOM.”

Muffled, “No, Darian, don’t?—”

A hard slap. “Shut your filthy mouth, slut!”

“She bled on my cock, Delacroix.” His sickening words drag me back from my memories. “And that was before my Pawns tore through her, too.”

“Just tell me what happened to her after you took her away.”

“You already know what happened. We killed her.”

With a final hard tug on my hair, I look at him through the haze of unshed tears. “How did she die? Give me the details.”

“So you can continue tormenting yourself?” He cocks his head curiously. “Isn’t it funny how the same thing unites you and my daughter?”

Confused, I lower my hands.

“She’s driven by the need for answers and revenge, just like you.What happened to her father?It’s nothing more than a scratched record, and why she’s here. Why she joined the Antichrist, and why she was at that party.”He flashes another leery smile. “She has her daddy issues, and you have your mommy issues.”

“Stop fucking talking.” I almost shout the last word.

“Darian?” a soft voice comes from behind.

My eyes briefly close. Why did she follow me? I don’t want to have to hurt her, but she gives me no choice by being here, seeing her father?—

“Darian?” She flicks her eyes toward the cell and back.

“Weak,” her father whispers in a mocking voice.

I ignore him and turn to my wife, who has paled and is glancing nervously between me and her emancipated father.

Fuck. I try to stand, but I’m too damn exhausted. Defeat rolls off me in waves as I slump back down and rest my arms on my knees. “Go ahead and hate me.”

“Hate you?”

“For this.” I wave a hand at the cell.

“See how she looks at you now,” her father taunts in a low voice so only I can hear. “You think she’ll forgive you?”

“Shut the fuck up!” I roar at him, and my wife flinches, inching backward.

Noticing, I stiffen.

Is she trying to leave? No. She can’t leave me. She’s my wife.Mine.Fucking mine.

Shooting to my feet, I block the exit. “I’m sorry. I should have told you… I should have…” Words fail me as her eyes fill with glassy tears, which soon spill over and trail down her cheeks.

“I don’t even know why I didn’t just kill him. I was angry and?—”

“Kill who?” she asks, interrupting me mid-sentence.

Frowning, I look from her to her father, who shrinks back into the shadows with a taunting glimmer in his eye. “Your dad,” I start, but snap my mouth shut when I see her confused expression.

Jabbing a finger in the cell’s direction where her father’s legs peek out from the shadows, I say, “Aren’t you going to say something, Cecilia.”

She swallows audibly as she wraps her arms around herself.

“YOUR FATHER!” I roar, making her jump and hug herself tighter.