Manage?
Like I’m a problem instead of his daughter.
“He put his hands on me,” I whisper, but his expression never changes.
“Brayden is under a lot of pressure,” he says, and I physically recoil.
“That’s your excuse?” I say, turning to face him with narrowed eyes.
His jaw tightens as his hands turn into fists. “Watch your tone.”
“He called me names in front of everyone and treats me like property and that’s just okay?” I ask.
“You are his future wife.” He smiles, but his words slap me in the face ,so I stare at him in disbelief while tears blur my vision.
“Mom left because of you and it’s really starting to show why.”
Silence.
Dead silence and then he smiles coldly.
Fuck!
By the time we get home, he drags me into his office where punishment waits quietly behind closed doors.
No screaming.
No violence.
My father doesn’t lose control like that. No, his cruelty is precise. Calculated.
So he takes my phone, my car keys, and my credit cards. Then he locks me inside my bedroom for the remainder of the weekend like I’m some misbehaving child instead of an eighteen-year-old woman suffocating beneath his control.
“You will learn respect,” he says before shutting the door behind him.
The lock clicks loudly and something inside me snaps.
I pace my room and wait for the sun to go down.
The walls feel too tight. The silence is too loud and my thoughts are too painful. I can’t take another second trappedinside this house. But then the lock clicks and Maggie enters my room.
“He’s gone. He won’t be back for a few weeks,” she says, handing me back my stuff.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” I squeal, giving her a hug.
“You’re welcome, Miss Ophelia. Have a good night,” She winks then leaves my room.
I jump up and down, then head to my closet to change.
There is a party tonight and I am not going to miss it.
I pull into the warehouse, park, then get out and head inside. The party is massive tonight.
Cars, bikes, and trucks line the streets outside while people flood in and out of the old building laughing, drinking, and smoking.
I step inside and it’s nothing but pure chaos. Beer pong tables. Poker games. Clouds of smoke curling towards the metal rafters. Bodies dancing beneath flashing lights.
For the first time all day I can breathe.
