Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
I swallow and twist the door handle. Dumbass has it unlocked. Then again, I don’t remember a time the door was ever locked. Maybe he thought no one would dare come in uninvited.
The door creaks as I push it open, and the smell slams into me—liquor, sweat, old smoke, and something rotten I can’t name. My lungs seize, but I force myself to step inside. Jenni follows, her hand brushing mine like she’s ready to catch me if I break.
There he is.
The man who made my life hell from the very beginning.
Ezra Rivera sits slouched in his worn-out recliner, the same ugly brown one from when we were kids. His hair is thinner now, patchy. His jeans are stained, shirt wrinkled. His eyes are sunk into his face, skin an odd shade of yellow. He looks like a ruin of a man. A waste of air.
And yet this ruined excuse for a man ruled me for too long.
Today, I’m here to take my life back.
“Well, look who the cat drug in,” he mutters, lifting a bottle of liquor to his lips and chugging.
“Dad,” I start, voice tight. “I need to face you.”
“Don’t call me that,” he spits, venom spraying the word. “Reckon it’s time to tell you. Since the bitch is dead now anyway. Jameson, you aren’t mine. So don’t call me Dad.”
His eyes are stone cold as he shatters my world with a few words. Dead? My mother?
His last sentence doesn’t even register at first. All I hear is that she’s gone.
“What?” The word cracks out of me.
“Your momma, that you loved so much. Yeah, she was a whore. She’s dead now. Buried her at that cemetery at the corner. Church folks gave her a plot since she found Jesus. I would’ve just cremated her and dumped the ashes in the trash since that’s what she was. Trash.”
I lose all composure. Everything ceases to exist. I lunge. My hands wrap around his throat, rage exploding out of me.
“The only trash here is you!” I scream, my voice ripping raw. “You raped me over and over again. My whole life is fucked because of you. My mother wasn’t trash—you are!”
The truth detonates out of me in front of my sister. I never wanted her to know, never wanted those words to stain her ears. But now it’s out, and all I care about is squeezing the life out of him. I want to watch the very life leave his body.
“Jami, stop!” Jenni cries, tugging at me.
Her voice breaks my focus just long enough for him to shove me off. I stumble back, crashing into the wall.
“That’s my girl,” Ezra rasps, rubbing his neck. His bloodshot eyes fix on Jenni. “Hennessey, my daughter. My pride and joy. You made your Papa proud joining the Navy.”
My stomach flips. Oh my God. He named us both after liquor. Jameson. Hennessey. He thought it was clever. Our mother gave in, maybe because it was easier than fighting him. Yes, she named my sister Jennessey but there isn’t a day of her life, he hasn’t called her Hennessey.
“You are not my father!” Jenni yells. “I don’t give a fuck what DNA says. You ruled this house with an iron fist. You broke me as a little girl. And knowing what you did to my sister—you’re a sick motherfucker.”
He laughs, low and cruel, and bile rises in my throat.
“What the fuck are you two gonna do about it? You can’t prove shit.”
Jenni’s tears spill down her cheeks. My voice shakes, but I force the words out.
“The first time… I was thirteen. I had just started my period. Mom was passed out on her meds. Jenni was at work. I tried to wake Mom to tell her. Instead, you found me. I told you I needed pads. And you said you knew how to teach me about a woman’s body.”
I gag, bile stinging my throat, but I don’t stop.
“Tight little cunt. Got you first, unlike your whore of a mother,” he mutters back. I’m so lost in my pain, his words don’t register at first.
Jenni lunges this time, fury snapping her like a whip. She crashes into him, clawing at his throat.
I came here for closure. But a man like him will never give me that. He will never set me free. I have to find it for myself.
He fumbles into the side of the recliner, hand closing on something. My heart seizes.
“Gun!” I scream.
Jenni jerks back, trying to shield me, but I won’t have it. I shove forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with her.
He studies us with a gleam in his eye, the pistol steady in his hand. As a child, he seemed monstrous. Now, he’s just a pathetic drunk holding a gun.
“So big, bad Ezra’s gonna shoot us?” I taunt, voice shaking but loud. I know I’m playing with fire. But I’ve played with fire every time I’ve shot poison into my veins. Every drug I ingested should have been my last. Death didn’t take me then, I’ll damn sure face it now sober.