Page 234 of Fame & Rhythm

Loretta walks back toward me, and I immediately tense.

That smile… there’s something twisted behind it, something that makes my stomach drop.

“Now…” she says with a low chuckle, “… we’re going to have a little fun.”

My eyes widen.

What the hell does that mean?

“Loretta, you don’t have to do anything,” I say quickly, forcing the words out. “My parents will pay you. You know they will.”

She laughs softly, almost amused. “Oh, I know they will, honey. For some reason I can’t quite understand, they love you. They’d do anything for you.” Her lips curl. “I don’t get it. But hurting you…” She tilts her head. “That’ll make me feel better… and… it’ll break Deliah in the process.”

Cold dread spreads through me. “If you hurt me, they might not pay you!” I push, grasping for anything.

She shakes her head slowly, smiling. “No… they’ll pay me no matter what.”

My stomach sinks.

She’s right.

“There has to be something in you,” I try again, my voice softer now. “Something that sees me as your child. Something that doesn’t want to hurt me.”

Her expression hardens instantly.

Another slap comes out of nowhere. My head jerks to the side as pain explodes across my cheek, sharper this time, the taste of blood flooding my mouth where my lip splits. “I don’t care about you!” she snaps. “You’re nothing. You ruined my life, so now I’m going to ruin yours.” She steps behind me before I can react and grabs my hand.

My thumb.

She yanks it back hard.

A sickening crunch echoes in the room.

Pain detonates, white-hot and blinding, and I scream. The sound tears out of me as fire rips through my hand, nausea surging instantly. My stomach flips, and bile rises in my throat as I gasp for air, trying to stay conscious through the wave of sheer agony.

The bitch laughs.

Actually laughs.

I clamp my eyes shut, fighting the tears, refusing to give her the satisfaction.

“How are you going to play your precious guitar now?” she mocks.

Rage cuts through the pain. “Fuck… you!” I choke out.

She just smiles. “I read somewhere you’re afraid of spiders,” she says casually.

My entire body locks.

No.

No, no, no—

“Meet Bertha,” she continues lightly, turning toward a box on the table. “She’s small… but she’s got a bite.”

My breathing spikes instantly, panic crashing over me. I shake my head without thinking as she lifts the lid.

A leg appears.