It All Started With Hate

lock | part 1 (e)

"You are stronger than you think. You have gotten through every bad day in your life, and you are undefeated." – Unknown
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Chapter 87
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Maggie

I still hadn't grasped the situation in a way that helped. Any idea or answer in how this, him, was real. 

My father was dead. He was supposed to be dead.

I could admit it; my mental health wasn't exactly squeaky clean, but I knew for a fact that I wasn't imagining this. I had spent the past decade trying not to.

Denial didn't change a thing, though. My father was here.

In front of me, sitting in a chair with a gun in his lap, and one of Luke's beers in the hand hanging over the arm of the chair.

My vision was blurring around the edges, I started to realize once the image became nebulous.

My father caught my incredulity, and returned it with glee. "Surprised to see me?" Chuckling, he tapped the gun against his knee with a shrug. "I'll say, I'm real surprised to see you. You've been hard to catch, Maggie."

My lungs had to work extra hard to keep me up. I wasn't even sure about the rest of me, because just opening my lips seemed like too much of a task.

"How..." I stumbled back on heavy legs. "How are you..."

"How am I what? Alive?"

My dumbfounded expression answered for me.

He pointed to the sofa, a smirk hanging off the corner of his lips. "Before you start asking questions, I suggest you take a seat." Crossing his feet at the ends, he shrugged, tilting his bottle at the exit. "And, you can try getting to the door. In fact, I'd love to see it. You won't even make it to your car before you're getting dragged right back in, though." Another shrug as he lifted the beer to his lips. "Pick which one will be easiest, sugar."

Regardless of his warning, my eyes darted over to the exit, where the door was shut. It was getting dark outside , so I couldn't tell if anyone else was out there. I didn't trust him enough to take his word for it, so I had to rely on my own guesses.

I knew he wasn't alone. As I said, half of his goons were men involved in my case. They were just as set on getting revenge.

I wasn't sure how many my father brought with him, nor how many were already inside of the house with us, but I knew without a weapon, it was enough to lose.

Dreadful pebbles made my heart sink. I couldn't get out.

The only option was to fight. I could do that.

If I went down, then I was taking some of these dirty sons of bitches with me. I would do anything in this world to stop other children from suffering that same torture I did by leaving these types of people alive.

I needed to get back to Luke and I's room, by any means necessary. That was where my gun was. In order to do that, I would have to feed the monster until his claws came out.

Just sitting down on the church made my skin crawl in a way it had never done before. I didn't know how long my father had been here, but just his presence alone was enough to turn any positives into evil, corrupted negatives.

My father watched me with a smile that I recognized as trouble. It was the one he always wore before another client came in, and after he or the others had finished with me. After I was left with another part of my soul bloodied, while they left satisfied, and my dad paid.