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“Let go of her. She isn’t going to run, you fucking moron. We are surrounded by a 10 foot iron fence,” Charlie chastises. “Please, let’s get you some refreshments inside,” he says, guiding me up the steps.
He doesn’t need to guide me. I know this place well. It is my childhood home, after all. Why has he brought me here? We walk through to the back of the house, right into the large living space with glass doors all the way along. It was my mom’s favourite room of the house; the sunlight would beam in on a sunny day.
I fight back the emotions I am feeling as memories flicker through my mind. I take a seat on the couch, still looking around. It looks exactly the same. “How? Why?” I ask, confused.
Charlie takes a seat opposite me as a maid brings over a tray of drinks and another places down some food. “Please, eat,” he says, gesturing to the trays.
“Tell me what the hell is going on,” I demand.
His eyes flare. “You have the same rebellious streak as your mother,” he states.
“Don’t talk about her like you knew her. You killed her. You do not deserve to speak of her,” I snap.
He ignores me and continues to talk. “Did you know your mother loved to swim? She would often drive to the local pool and swim in the early hours of the morning. She would do lap after lap until she was too tired to swim anymore,” he states.
“We have a pool here. Why didn’t she just swim here?” I counter.
He smiles. “She used to do it to get away, to think and clear her head.”
I shake my head. “Why would she? She was happy, blissfully happy, with my father and me,” I argue.
He shakes his head. “She was happy being a mother to you, but she wasn’t happy with her husband.” He sighs.
I shake my head. “No, you’re wrong. You’re fucked in the head. Jealous because my father had it all and you wanted it. So you killed her,” I yell, standing. “Fuck you, and fuck your bullshit,” I spit before storming off. I don’t make it far, before one of his men step out from behind the wall and cut me off. They rear their fist back and hit me hard. I fall to the floor, groaning. He then bends down and grabs a fistful of my hair, dragging me back to Charlie. I scream in pain, my scalp feeling like it’s burning. I kick out, grabbing hold of his arm to try to get him to let go. He does eventually when we are in front of Charlie, and I whimper before I frame my head in my hands.
“There, there, Belle,” Charlie says softly. He crouches down next to me, his hand reaching out to stroke my hair.
I flinch as tears begin to roll down my face. “Don’t touch me!” I screech.
“My Belle, I just want to comfort you,” he states casually. Like his men haven’t just hit and dragged me across the floor.
I touch the top of my cheek, feeling it’s now swollen and tender to the touch. I hiss. “I am not your Belle.”
Charlie tuts. “Oh, but you are.” He holds out his hand for me to take. I curl away and shake my head no. “It is not a request,” he seethes. I reach out, my hand shaking as I place it in his. He stands and pulls me with him. “Ice. Now,” he barks to his men. “Sit down,” he orders.
I take a seat next to him and one of his men come in with a bucket of ice and some napkins. He places some ice in a napkin before delicately placing it on my cheek. I flinch from pain and fear, watching as his eyes assess me, like they are searching every part of my face.
“You know, you look just like her,” he states. I don’t answer. “Apart from one thing.”
“I won’t sleep with you,” I blurt out. “And if you try to rape me, I will fight you, and I won’t stop fighting you.”
He frowns, shaking his head. “I would never do such a disgusting thing.” He sighs. “I wanted this moment to be so much more. I wanted it to be special, but I guess life has a way of keeping things interesting,” he states. “Belle, you are mine. You are my daughter,” he declares.
A whooshing sound echoes through my ears as my heart beats uncontrollably. I start to find it difficult to breathe. I quickly jump to my feet, taking steps back, needing space from him.
“No,” I rasp, shaking my head. “No, you’re lying. You killed my mom because you wanted to hurt my dad,” I splutter, trying to catch my breath.
Charlie stands and takes a step towards me. “I didn’t kill your mother. I loved her. I would never hurt her. Bobby killed her,” he states.
I shake my head rapidly. “No, no. Stop lying. Why? Why are you doing this?” I sob. “You want the business, have it! I don’t want it! Why do you have to torture me?” I gasp. I place my hand on the wall, trying to breathe.
“Slow breaths Belle, deep slow breaths,” Charlie says, trying to guide my breathing pattern. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to slow my breathing. “Belle, if you won’t believe me, then maybe you will believe Bobby,” he states. My eyes spring open.
“Belle,” Dad calls my name. I turn around to see him stood behind me with a gun pressed against his head. “It’s true,” he states. Any control I had over my breathing is gone. Full blown panic is taking over my body. No matter how hard I try to breathe, I can’t seem to draw any air into my lungs. The room starts to spin, and I stumble back before the lights go dim and complete darkness swallows me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
BEAST
