Page 12 of Inflict

He had been right.

Sean never said a word about Lela, where she had gone, or what happened to her. A good two weeks had gone by before the next maid showed up, so late one night that her arrival had woken Connor from his dreams. He’d snuck down the stairs to see what the noise was, only to see a very young lass crouched in the hallway, her hair a tangled mess, sticking to tear streaks on her cheeks, and snot running from her nose.

A large red welt on her cheek had just started to form.

Connor’s father had been standing over her, ready to hit her again.

He’d gone back upstairs to his bed.

This maid wasn’t very good at cooking, not like Lela had been. And despite the many accidents and ruined meals since she had showed up that night, his father was … happier, or so it seemed. Connor wondered if his father overlooked the fact the maid didn’t cook very well, and also didn’t seem to like to clean, because she was younger than Lela was.

Missy didn’t look to be any older than some of the girls in the middle school grades that traveled on his school bus.

She didn’t talk a lot.

Neither did Connor.

He didn’t really know what to think of her, so he tried not to think of her all that much. Each time he had become fond of one of their maids, she eventually left in the night, leaving him to wonder why she couldn’t say goodbye to him.

He was not going to do the same for Missy.

Connor kept his eyes down on his plate of scrambled eggs—the first eggs Missy had made that weren’t runny—as he ate, trying as fast as he could to shovel down the food without pissing his father off. Then again, Sean’s attention seemed to be preoccupied on what Missy was doing at the sink, and not on his son.

For that, Connor was grateful.

“Are you almost finished?” Sean asked.

Since he wasn’t looking at his father, Connor thought Sean was talking to Missy, and shoved another bite into his waiting mouth.

“Connor!”

Apparently, he’d been wrong.

“Yeah?”

“Are you almost done?” his father repeated, slower the second time.

“Yes,” Connor said quietly.

“Good, then finish and get outside for the day.” Sean’s gaze slid back to Missy, and then right down to her arse. “And don’t let me hear about you effin’ and blindin’ at school again. Goddamn teacher calling my house in a rage, the cunt.”

He knew better than to explain an older lad had been picking on him, and so Connor had finally taken enough, and let the kid have it. Instead, he thought about playing outside, and how cold it would be.

Connor’s brow furrowed. “It snowed all night.”

“Dress warmly.”

That was that.

His father didn’t sound like there was room for argument.

Connor made sure to leave nothing on his plate, and only had time to get the front door closed before he heard Missy’s first scream. He didn’t remember Lela being that loud.

He would not be going home soon, even if he froze his balls off.

• • •

“Connor, boyo, how long are you going to stay out there, shivering like a lost mutt in the cold?”