“Please! Don't do this, Daddy. Not here.”
He paused, his brutal energy much stronger than his wiry body. He felt like an honest-to-God bear, just waiting for the right moment to tear into me.
“Stop struggling! You can never cooperate, can you, bitch? Don't know why the hell I keep expecting different...”
His hands went for my shoulders again. More screams poured out my throat as he ripped my dress, kicking it to my feet, exposing the skin he meant to punish.
The rain spattered colder against my bare skin. I wondered if I could get any wetter without drowning, and then there was another sound.
My ears perked up, dreading the next moment. His belt, stretched flat in his hands, snapping when he flexed them apart.
“Head down. Eyes on the ground. Don't you dare get up until I tell you to.”
I nodded, too tired and sick and broken in disbelief to fight.
The first lash cut into me so sharp it broke the skin. Blood started to trickle down, distinct from the icy raindrops because it was so warm.
He rested before he hit me again, gathering his fury. Behind me, he laughed, and that hurt more than the belt striking my flesh.
“You never learn, Cassie. No matter how old you get, how many times you stumble...the Prophet's right. The evil inside you has already eaten you up, and I just can't drive it out.” His voice broke, almost like he was about to cry. I didn't buy it – he was enjoying this. “I'm sorry. As a father, I'm not giving up on you, no matter how much of a bitch and a whore you become. I'll be doing this into your thirties if I have to. You may embarrass yourself, girl, but you won't shame this family!”
His fist fell, bringing the belt over the last cut.
Pain. Blinding, stormy, slow moving pain.
It shot up my center and ripped through me, turning the dark gray world to white and red.
I choked out more cries, begging him to stop. None of them did me any good. He must've hit me at least half a dozen times before I heard a growl like the end of the world.
A car pulled up, and it was waiting behind us.
Grunting, the harsh leather fell. He gave me one more slap against the cheek with his free hand before turning around. God, my humiliation just became complete. Someone else was probably staring at the abysmal scene, watching the drunken maniac I called my father beat me senseless.
I slid down to the ground, bracing myself weakly on rusted metal. Scrunching into a fetal position, I rested my face in my hands, wishing I could cry like the rain. My blood ran cold, frozen by the water and grime all over me, stealing the last of my fire.
Just once, I wished someone would take me away. Someone from another town, who wasn't afraid to interfere with Beacon Grove. Someone who wasn't bothered by the crazy isolation and legal threats the Prophet used to keep corrupted outsiders away.
I didn't care if people from the great beyond were evil and corrupt like the Prophet claimed. They couldn't be worse than the congregation, could they?
“Hey, Mister. What the hell do you think you're doing?” Daddy's voice was low, surprised. “Be gone! We won't be poisoned by your –“
He barely had time to squeak before he went flying into the truck next to me. Before I could jerk up in surprise, the stranger was on him, flinging him against the metal like a crude toy.
Again and again and again my father hit the truck, face first, and then several more times after he stopped shaking. The huge man holding him never looked at me until Daddy fell to the ground, limp and broken as a severed puppet.
I should've tried to help him like a good daughter. I practically heard him screaming at me through his bloody face, telling me do something. His dying face blinked once, huge eyes pleading. He looked at me like he saw Heather – not the bad girl he hated and condemned.
What the hell are you doing, Cassie! I heard his voice in my head. Your sister would attack this man killing me. Don't you want to save your own fucking father?
In truth, Heather would've done something. She would've run straight into the flooded woods, but I was too damned shocked and hurt to do that.
“Oh my God!” I whispered, breaking into full tremors. “Please...please don't hurt me.”
I couldn't bring myself to look up for more than a single second. What I saw terrified me.
There was a huge, powerful, soaking wet man glaring down at me, his arms folded across a neat leather jacket. I hung my head, seriously wondering if he'd kill me next.
Sure, the outside world couldn't be all be evil and corrupted like the Prophet says, but watching this man kill my monstrous father gave me some serious doubts.
Oh, God. He really did kill him, didn't he? He's really...dead?
Dead, dead, dead!
The body next to me didn't look like it would ever get up. My father's eyes were vacant. They'd never demand anything again.