AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I thought she’d come looking for me. I thought she’d come to apologize and grovel. And you know what was worse? I loved her so much I would have forgiven her. Huntsman was always trying to take what was mine. Tell me I couldn’t do shit because he knew I was getting ahead, and the fucking MC was being left in the dust. I knew he’d stolen her from me purposely. I would have taken her back. I would have fucking loved her. I would have raised you as my own.”
“I would rather die,” I snarled.
“That comes later,” he threw back with a dark glare that burned right through me. “For now, you shut your mouth and listen. I’m getting to the good part, I promise.”
I needed to get the hell out of here, but there were guards on the door. My hands were bound so tight they were starting to go numb, and my body was running on adrenaline—which would only last so long. The aches and pains were becoming stronger and stronger.
“So then… your mom tells me she’s actually looking for Huntsman,” he continued, laughing loudly as if it was all one big misunderstanding.
I was starting to piece everything together now, and second by second my heart was cracking. That mom I’d seen in the picture with Huntsman, with the beaming smile on her face, the carefree way she lived, she was beautiful and free. Then my grandparents were killed, and she had to raise Kim, as well as a newborn baby, but she was still strong, she was still herself, she still had that soul I saw in the picture.
“What the hell did you do to her?” I whispered, my voice catching. I couldn’t stop the tears that trickled down my cheeks, not even caring about how his eyes lit up, and a dark and satisfied smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.
He took that as his cue.
Coming over to me, picking up his glass and crouched down in front of me. His drink hung from his hands, the ice cubes once again clattering loudly as he gently swirled the liquid.
“I punished her.”
My breathing was shaky and uneven. Isiah was perfectly calm. He dipped his head, looked me directly in the eye and grinned. I imagined that this moment is what it would be like if I met the devil himself.
“I told her if she wanted to be a whore… then that’s what she would be,” he declared and took a sip from his glass. He swallowed and let out a satisfied sigh. “So I gave her to my men. And I let them destroy her.”
I couldn’t stop the distraught sob which forced its way up my throat and fell from my lips.
It was like a compliment to him. I saw the way his eyes lit up at the sign of my pain.
He broke her.
Isiah had turned my mom from that woman I saw in the picture with Huntsman, the one who was happy to announce how outgoing I was as a child, and who found happiness and freedom in life into someone who was scared at every second and every moment of the day that she was going to be hurt, and that she was going to have the people she cared about stripped away from her.
He left her barely hanging on.
He broke her.
“You’re a psychotic, jealous, and pathetic piece of shit,” I hissed, barely able to speak as my throat burned and tears fell continuously.
He didn’t flinch at my words.
I imagine he’d probably been called worse.
“And your mom is a fucking whor—”
I couldn’t let him finish it. Rage consumed me, and I threw my body back in the chair, lifting my legs and slamming both my feet into his stomach before he even had time to relax. The loud ‘oomph’ of air leaving his lungs and groans of pain were so fucking satisfying that I wanted to do it again. Over and over until he felt what he’d done to me, to Huntsman, to my fucking mom.
He ruined her, he destroyed her.
And I wanted to kill him.
Isiah climbed to his feet, hunched over, holding his stomach, his eyes burning through mine like fucking lasers. “Get her dressed into something pretty,” he murmured, the rasp in his voice letting me know he was in some serious pain. “I want to take photos and get them up in the next few hours. I already have a couple of buyers interested, the quicker, the better.”
Buyers.
Two men grabbed me, and I fought and struggled before Isiah stopped and grabbed my jaw in his hand, his fingers squeezing it painfully until I finally cried out. “Stop.”
“You’re lucky my buyers like their product feisty and mostly untouched,” he warned. “Or you’d be barely fucking breathing right now. Maybe even dead. Like father like daughter.”
I couldn’t hold back the sob.
I didn’t care if it made me look weak.
“Take her.”
Ham, where are you?
