Stepbrother Unsealed(78)

He stops just short of saying bitch. It's not like it matters.

Dad has never, ever been so harsh with me, so hurtful, so threatening. It's all I can take.

I'm blotting at my eyes and tearing out of his office before he can say anything else.#p#分页标题#e#

“Think about it!” he yells after me. “You'll come to me tomorrow with the right answer. I know you will, Cordelia, I spent my whole life raising you better than –“

I cover my ears and rush upstairs. The queen bitch is sitting in the nook near their bedroom, letting the pale moonlight spill over, a fresh drink in her hand that's almost drained. I know by the amber color she's hitting the bottle again, and the evil smile she gives me confirms it.

I won't look at her. I get inside my room and slam the door, knowing it's my only safe haven from this prison my house has become.

I can't give up, can't let them win, can't let them destroy the love of my life. I need to talk to Chris. I pull him up on my phone and send him another text.

It's completely futile until he responds to the last five I've sent him, sure, but I can't help it. Where the hell is he?

I'm sick. Worried to death. I really shouldn't be scanning the news right now, but it's all I can do to soothe myself. I'd kill to hear something, find out he's okay, anything that tells me he'll get in touch soon.

There's nothing for the next hour. Then my news app sends an alert after I've started screwing around on social media:

BREAKING: Three American Special Forces Held in North Korea!

My stomach churns before I even open the link. And when I do, I have to cover my mouth, all I can do not to vomit.

Chris' face is front and center. Bruised, beaten up, bloodied. He'd sitting at a table underneath a huge North Korean flag, two grim faced guards next to him and two other SEALs at his side. They're parading them like special prizes for their own sick propaganda.

“No...no, no, no.” I say it over and over again, and then I completely lose my voice.

The phone slips from my hand. A few minutes ago, I could've kept it together. I was ready to fight my parents tooth and nail to stay with him, even if I had to skip the next semester.

I'd show dad that I'm not losing my mind – I'm doing the only sane thing in the world by embracing the man I love.

But now, something is falling, breaking apart deep inside me like a huge ice shelf coming down.

I'm numb. I'm scared. And for the first time in my life, I think I'm going truly crazy.

“Truly, I wish it didn't have to come down this way, Cordelia. We'll do everything we can to make sure he comes home safe.” Dad's eyes flick nervously back toward mine in the rear view mirror.

I barely shrug.

I haven't sat in the backseat while he's driving since I was a kid. Today, I feel like one, broken and completely helpless.

When the bitch pushed for checking me into the same psych ward she'd went to this morning over breakfast, I didn't say no.

I keep thinking I'll go through the motions, get out of the house, and try to come back for fall semester fresh. You know, not sick to death over wondering if Chris will come home alive, or what kind of brutal torture he's suffering.

I'm kidding myself. I'm the one who's sick and screwed up. Losing him hurts.

I'm so alone. Lost. Loveless.

“We're almost there. You're going to feel much better soon, honey. Honest. Just listen to what the doctors tell you. I'll be here on Friday to see how you're doing.”

“Oh, back off the girl, Bruce. She's just sick in the head. She hasn't reverted back to a baby.” Evie looks up at him from the passenger seat, filing her nails.

There's a steady rain coming down across the hills, spattering the entire metropolitan area It's cold for summer, and I stare out the window, wondering if it's a fraction as dismal and hopeless feeling as the place where Chris is being held prisoner.#p#分页标题#e#

The raindrops blend with the sound of Evie scratching her nails to perfection. It's a rough, edgy sound, like my whole world is ripping in two, plunging me into a gray, empty pit I don't know how to climb up from.

I see the clinic looming large in the distance. It's one of those spacious places with incredible gardens and sleek, white wards. Celebrities and rich people go there to detox or unwind from their myriad emotional traumas.

I can't say dad hasn't always offered me the best in everything. I stare at it through the window, wondering how I'll actually feel once I'm locked in, institutionalized, a small team of quacks hovering over me everyday.

My stomach starts knotting up. Then I think about Chris, the only thing I truly want to think about, even when he's causing me the greatest anguish of my life.

This is going to be torture, no doubt about it. But I know it's less than a shred of the brutality he's suffering.