Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
What he thought was excitement for the tree lighting ceremony had actually been excitement at seeing him home, healthy and whole.
“Then I thought about all those times that Krisney went to dances, football games, and such. When people would ask her where you were, she’d tell them that your father was strict, and wouldn’t let you attend school functions…or any functions where he couldn’t be there.”
I pursed my lips.
My father hadn’t allowed me to go to those. In fact, he hadn’t allowed me to go to much of anything unless it was the grocery store—because who the hell could get into trouble going there?
Apparently, I could.
That same day of the tree lighting, I’d gone to the grocery store, which was where I’d seen Tate. My father had allowed me to go to the grocery store by myself, but being the evil bastard that he was, he’d followed me there.
He’d always been suspicious. Things that I thought were normal—like saying hi to a man that had been deployed and had come home—were not normal to him. What they were to him, were immoral.
I’d been talking to a man. I’d been having lustful thoughts about a man that he’d hated.
Hence why he’d beaten me so badly that I could barely stand for a week afterward.
Luckily, it’d been Christmas break, allowing me to hide in my house for weeks and heal instead of going to school and having to explain away my stiff gait.
It was bad enough that Krisney assumed she knew what was going on. Though, she always assumed something much tamer than what was actually going on.
Krisney thought that I just had a strict father—one that thought I should have short hair.
What she didn’t know was that on any and every occasion that my father saw fit, he’d teach me what he thought was the way of God. Thou shalt not lust after a man. Thou shalt not have impure thoughts. Thou shalt not curse, lie, or steal.
The one and only time that I’d cursed had been in the kitchen when I’d slammed my finger in a drawer. It’d been the word ‘crap.’
My father had heard it, and had come barreling out of his office while ripping his belt from his belt loops.
“The day that you wore those pretty clothes at the church picnic,” my stomach clenched. That time had been one of the worst that I’d ever experienced.
Giving him hours to stew, to think about what he was going to do to me as he waited for the church picnic to be over, had been one that I never wanted to think about ever again.
I started to lift my shirt, yanking it up and over my head as I stared at him with a challenge in my eyes.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” I told him.
Then I started in on my pants.
I knew that a man could be distracted by sex, and that was what I needed—a big distraction.
I knew that my body wasn’t beautiful.
Hell, it wasn’t even cute.
I had stretch marks on my hips from my hyperactive growth as a child—at least in my mind’s eyes.
I was five foot seven. If I had heels on, that was.
Five foot four if I didn’t.
But apparently growing from four foot eight to five foot four in six months was enough to make my hips hate me forever.
Then there were my boobs.
They were too big for a short girl like me, and it was hard as hell to find anything to fit them that didn’t look completely at odds with my small stature.
My hips were round, and my thighs left a lot to be desired.
They would never not touch, no matter how much I may want them not to.
And my arms—well the fat on them would always swing in the wind if I had the windows down.
But for some reason, Tate seemed to like my body.
He seemed to find the things I hated most, attractive.
“We’re not done talking about this,” he said as he watched me work on my pants. “Not to mention I didn’t invite you over here to do that.”
I froze with my pants halfway over my ass.
Then I felt stupid.
Bringing them back up into position, I started buttoning them.
I was going to cry.
Literally, tears were stinging my eyes, and I wanted nothing more to do than go home and put this god-awful, shitty day behind me.
Tomorrow, I’d start over.
Tomorrow, I might very well look for a job somewhere else.
I knew better than to come home.
Stupidly, I’d let Krisney convince me, though. She didn’t know about all that went on with my father. I should’ve told her. Maybe then she would’ve encouraged me to go to a different city.
Maybe then I’d be living the dream somewhere else, without my father breathing down my back, or the allure of a man that I knew didn’t really want forever with me.