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“No sir, my people don’t want any reward, just an assurance that she’ll be taken care of.” I look back down at Lydia. She knows this is it. I can tell by the scared look on her face.
“Of course. We will be in your debt forever.” He moves across the room to place a kiss on top of Lydia’s head.
“I need to get back on the road,” I tell them all. My phone has been vibrating non-stop, and I’m in serious need of drawing blood.
“Can I say goodbye alone?” Lydia stands up, looking to her father for permission. She feels like she belongs to him now, and that’s something I hope she manages to change through therapy.
“Of course, darling, we’ll be right here.” Her father takes a seat beside his wife while Lydia steps toward me, and I have to tense every single muscle to resist from touching her as we move outside.
I step off the porch to put enough space between us to stop myself from kissing her one last time.
“Be happy, Lyd.” It’s all I want for her, and as her hand lifts, I brace myself for its touch. It will make leaving so much harder, but I have to allow myself the comfort of her one more time.
There ain’t no comfort in the sting her palm makes when it lands on my jaw. And as much as it shocks me, I manage not to respond. Instead, I stare into her eyes and allow her the pain she needs to draw from me.
“I hope, one day, you forgive yourself,” she tells me bitterly, turning on her heels and marching inside.
I want to drag her back, rip the heart right out of my chest and put it inside her where it belongs, and as I back away and get back into the driver’s seat of the cage, she turns and watches me from the porch.
“Goodbye, Lydia Farrowman,” I mutter under my breath, starting up the engine and driving away from the closest thing to happiness I’ll ever get.
I should have tried harder, begged him not to leave me some more, but I know it would have all been pointless.
Screwy has made up his mind, and he’s using me to punish himself for all his wrong-doings.
I haven't stopped thinking about Beth since he told me he was responsible for her death. I try not to think about how or why.
I know Screwy is a dangerous man, but he can’t be that dangerous. I just hit him, and I knew it hurt. But he didn’t react, he didn’t retaliate. And I almost wish he had because then I might have believed that he was a monster.
My parents are both staring at me when I step back inside the house. Mother is smiling at me so brightly that it makes me feel uncomfortable. I don’t know these people. Seeing them hasn’t bought anything from my old life back to me.
“We will right whatever they did to you.” My father approaches me cautiously. He’s yet to hug me, and I assume it’s been down to the territorial presence Screwy has around me. I sensed it made the man uneasy. But it wouldn’t have been intentional–it’s just Screwy’s way.
I feel my stomach flip and hear myself squeal when his hand unexpectedly coils around my throat, his force marching me backward until the back of my head smacks against the door.
“Did he have you?” he asks furiously, causing my heart to stop beating.
“Screwy,” I call out, straining my neck against my father's hand.
“He’s gone, and he ain’t gonna hear you. Now answer my question. Did he take you? Did any of them take you?”
“You're not my father, are you?” I try to fight the man off me. Refusing to allow the thought that these people could be associated with Verretti come into my head.
The man who played such a submissive, gentle role in front of Screwy is strong, and the woman behind him, who claims to be my mother, drops her Stepford housewife routine along with her smile.
“I've let him know the coast is clear he’ll be here in five minutes.” She places the cell phone in her hand back in her pocket and stalks toward me.
“Who are you people? Why are you pretending to be my parents?” Panic has taken over, and I can feel my mind blanking, struggling to make anything clear.
“I am your father.” The man looks at me. “I’m a little disappointed you don’t recognize your old man. But our reunion will be a brief one, sweetheart. We need to get back to where you came from.”
“No!” His words make my chest collapse, and I look back at the woman who is part of this too. “You’re my mother. How could you let this happen?”
The woman throws her head back and laughs at me.
“I’m not ya mama, sweetheart. That stupid bitch has been feeding the fish in Natowa Lake for years now.”
Tears drip onto my face as I take in what she’s telling me. This can’t be happening. My mom can’t be dead, and this man who is my father can’t possibly want me to return to the people Screwy saved me from.
