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“The lad sniffing around ya,” he snarled. “The hotshot from the papers.”
My heart sank. “What?”
His gaze flicked from my phone to me. “Fran, next door, said she saw a lad from your school driving around here,” he slurred. “Said she saw him drop you home from school today.” He turned his attention back to my phone. “Where is his number? Where are his texts? Who the fuck are you knocking around with? Is it him? That rugby asshole? The Kavanagh prick?”
Dammit, Fran!
“Nobody, Dad,” I lied through my teeth. “I was sick in school today, and Claire and her brother, Hughie, drove me home.”
“Hughie Biggs?” Dad hissed, swaying on his feet again. “That jumped-up gobshite? That’s why you’re walking about with a shit-eating grin on your face?”
“What? No!” I shook my head and backed away. “I’m not with Hughie. I’m not with anyone.”
“I don’t believe you,” he growled.
“I’m not lying,” I choked out. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You don’t have to have a boyfriend to whore yourself,” he hissed. “Ask your mother about that.”
“I’m not seeing anyone,” I strangled out, panicked. “I swear to god, I’m not!”
Reaching out, he clamped a beefy hand on my shoulder and pressed down hard. “If you’re lying to me—”
“I’m not, Dad,” I cried out, buckling under the force of his touch. “Please—”
My words broke off when my father’s fist connected with my cheek, hitting me so hard that my head snapped back from the force.
Fight back, Shannon.
Grab something. Anything.
Do something.
Pain scorched through my face, tears filled my eyes, and still, I did nothing. I didn’t fight back. I didn’t try to run.
I just stood there.
“Come here,” he snarled. Keeping his hand on my shoulder, fingers digging into my bones, Dad marched me into the kitchen, not stopping until we were at the sink.
“Turn it on,” he instructed.
Without hesitation, I reached over and turned on the tap.
“Fill that up,” he ordered, toppling a pint glass off the draining board and into the basin of the sink.
Thankfully, it didn’t break and I hurried to fill the glass, resisting the urge to tuck and roll to break free from his grip.
“See this?” he hissed as he dropped my phone into the water. “See it, girl?”
Motionless, I nodded, watching my phone sink to the bottom of the pint glass.
“If I find out you’re lying to me, it won’t be your phone I’ll be drowning,” he growled, digging his fingers so hard into my shoulder that my back bowed without my brain’s permission. “Do ya hear me?”
“I hear you,” I whimpered, shaking from head to toe.
“Don’t you go running to your brother with stories, either,” he hissed in my ear. Shoving me away, he added, “Or I’ll fuck you both on the streets.”
I wish you would, I just about stopped myself from saying.
