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Nervous energy zips through me. “Yeah, okay.”
“Hey, it’ll be okay.” She reaches for my hand and squeezes. “Just think of Betty.” Shelbie winks before skipping off down the gravel path. I watch her disappear into the darkness and then I close the door, sliding the deadbolt in place.
Conner only left an hour ago, but I already miss him. Part of me wants to leave now. To beg him to come get me and take me far away from here. But I know James Jagger has a plan, so I need to be patient.
One more day.
Trying to push all negative thoughts out of my head, I clean up the pizza boxes and empty cans of soda before switching off the lights and going to my room. Mitch must be staying over at Hilda’s, but—unsurprisingly—I feel safer in the trailer alone than I do when he’s here.
He knows how Warren treats me. He knows, and he’s never once tried to stop him. But I feel an immovable sense of sadness for him too. His wife is gone. He obviously never got over the heartache, and Warren as his son isn’t exactly a consolation prize.
I change into my pajamas and brush my teeth before combing out my hair and braiding it loosely over one shoulder. Then when I’m ready, I go to my drawer and pull out my toiletry bag. Hopefully Conner will still be awake. I want to tell him how much my gift meant.
But when I open up the bag and rummage inside, horror washes over me.
My cell phone is gone.
Fear snakes through me as I pull out the entire contents of the small bag. The rational part of my brain knows it’s gone, but the irrational part, the part trembling with terror, needs to be sure.
“Where the hell is it?” I mutter to myself, throwing myself on the floor to make sure it hasn’t fallen out in the drawer.
I’m so lost in the frenzy that I don’t hear the door open. I don’t see Warren looking over at me until it’s too late.
“Looking for something?” he snarls, his eyes pitch black.
“You took it.”
“Kennedy, baby, when are you going to learn?” He leans down and grabs my arm, wrenching me to my feet. Pain ricochets through my muscles, but I swallow the yelp in my throat.
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” His body cages mine against the wall, his warm, bitter breath fanning my face. “Do you think I didn’t know that you and that fuck Jagger have been sneaking around? I know everything, Kennedy. Every-fucking-thing. And you played right into my hands, baby.”
“Y-you set me up. You—"
He fists my hair, yanking me up until my body hangs in front of him, the tips of my toes scraping the carpet.
“W-Warren.” My fingers claw at his hand, trying to loosen his death grip on me.
“You’re tainted goods, baby. Why do you think I’ve been sticking it elsewhere?” He cups me roughly, scratching the skin there.
I bite down on my lip to stop myself from crying out. It hurts. But it’s nothing compared to what I know is coming.
“Why?” I finally cry out.
“Why?” he seethes. “WHY? Because James Jagger and his good for nothing sons deserve to know what it feels like to have everything ripped away from them.”
“W-wha—" Warren shoves me hard and I crumple to the floor, breaking my fall with my hands and knees.
“What do you—" He backhands me so hard my head feels like it snaps from my neck, agony shooting through my jaw and into my spine.
“I should do it now.” Crouching down, Warren runs a finger down my cheek, through the river of silent tears cascading down my face. “Shit, you look good like this, baby.” He grabs my hair again, holding me in place. “It’s a real shame to dirty you all up before your birthday, but you make me so fucking mad, Ken.”
“I-I’m sorry.” Survival mode kicks in. This time feels different. He’s unstable, anger swirling around him like a devastating storm. He wants my pain, my tears, and my blood.
He wants to make me hurt.
Only, I’m not sure I’ll survive if he unleashes hell on me tonight... and I don’t mean metaphorically.
One more day.
