Page 139 of His to Own

“Father?” I whisper.

“What?” he snaps.

I breathe out. “You weren’t talking. I wasn’t sure if you were ok or not. You got hit in the head hard.”

“After you hit me in the same spot just a few days ago,” he grumbles.

“I’m not sorry.”

That makes him lift his head and finally look me in the eyes. “How can you not be sorry? You could have killed me.”

“There were times I thought you wanted me dead too. When I was growing up. Whenever you’d hit me.”

“Are you saying I deserved to die?”

In this moment, as I look into my father’s eyes, I don’t feel afraid of him. We’ve both been kidnapped. We’re both tied to the same beam in the same red barn. We’re in this together whether we like it or not.

“Yes,” I answer him. “You were a horrible father. Maybe I should have killed you.”

His eyes widen. The blood seeping from his temple is close to getting in his eye.

“But,” I continue, “you’re still my father. I stopped after I hit you once because I don’t really want to kill you. I don’t want your blood on my hands.”

“Because you’re such a good girl?” He scoffs. “What kind of good girl are you? No good girl hits their own father.”

“If you’re even my father.”

That makes him suck in a breath. “What did you just say?”

“You know. You know what Mom did.”

“And you know?”

I force myself to not look away from him. “I do. Mom told me.”

“Your mother and I have put that behind us.”

“Clearly not. You’re not sure if I’m your daughter. It’s why you treat me the way you do. Isn’t it? Mom didn’t want me saying anything. For her own protection. But I have the right to talk with you about this, Especially after how you’ve treated me. It’s because of what she did. Right?”

“We don’t need to discuss this.”

“Why not? We’re stuck here. What else are we going to do?”

“I liked you better when you were quiet.”

“When I was scared of you, you mean. But we’re stuck in the same place right now. I’m not scared of you. Not when I see you like this. And I want to talk. I have the right to know. Have you always hated me because you think I’m not your daughter?”

He shakes his head. The blood from his temple splatters onto the hay-covered ground. “I hated you because you hated me.”

“I only hated you because of how you treated me. Don’t blame me for that. Please. Give me that at least.”

After a long, quiet moment, he finally speaks. “All right. Fine. I’ll say it. Yes. I was never sure if you were my daughter or not. So yes, I hated you for it. I hated what your mother did. But she was my wife so I forgave her. We had a precedent to set. We had our reputations at stake. I wasn’t going to let anyone know she cheated on me. It would only make me look pathetic and I was not going to look pathetic. Is that your plan? To tell people she had an affair and make me look like a fucking fool?”

“Why would you think I was that vindictive? Especially since it could get Mom killed.”

“I would never hurt your mother.”

“Lana told me she saw you hit her once.”