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Chapter Sixteen

Melanie

I can’t believe Max would accuse me of willingly sleeping with my own child. Am I the only one here who hasn’t lost their damn mind? Every strike and blow he lands on Edward breaks my heart, and I refuse to stand idly by while he beats our son to death.

“Stop, Max. He’s done. Leave him alone!” I yell, shoving him away and crouching down next to our boy.

Edward’s face is bloody, and every inch of him is covered in split skin and already turning purple with bruises. Tears drip from my cheeks onto his skin as I sob next to his battered body. If I couldn’t see the rise and fall of his chest or hear the faint wheeze of his breaths, I’d believe he was dead.

I screech in pain as I’m yanked backward and thrown to the floor. The sheet falls from my body, and I scrabble to cover myself up again. Max is leaning over me, his eyes dark with unbridled rage. He rarely loses his temper, but when he does, he becomes completely unhinged. I’ve been on the receiving end of his fury only once, and I endeavored never to see him like it again.

Edward isn’t the only one I’ve failed here tonight. I just hope we both live through whatever Max is about to do. His eyes travel down my exposed skin and come to a stop at my pussy.

“Max, stop. Please. I promise I didn’t know.”

My pleas fall on deaf ears as he pins me down with one hand, roughly parts my legs with his knees, and pulls his dick out of his pants.

“Melanie, stop fucking lying to me. Tell the truth and I might just go easy on you.”

“It doesn’t matter what I say, you won’t believe me anyway,” I bite out, while tears stream down my face.

“You know me, you know how my dick feels inside your pussy. It belongs to me, and no one else. Once I’m through with you, you won’t forget how it feels.”

He pushes into me viciously, and for the first and possibly last time in my life, I’m glad I had sex with Edward. His cum inside of me acts as a lube, keeping me wet and allowing Max to slide in and out effortlessly as he punishes me for what our son did to me. Max fucks me wildly, with no care for me, only seeking his own twisted end. I’m angry at Edward, too, but attacking him isn’t the way to get the message across .

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Edward as he lies unconscious on my bedroom floor. Protecting him and keeping him safe has always been my priority, and if letting his father violently rape me in a blind rage keeps him from killing him, then I haven’t failed as his mother.