Pretend

Chapter 67

Torrey's POV:

I tried to steady my breathing as I sat in the dimly lit basement, my hands still bound behind me.

The cold concrete floor was unforgiving, and my mind racing.

Suddenly, I began to hear footsteps from upstairs. The sound grew louder, and my heart pounded harder in my chest.

Matthew, who had been seated on the staircase, stood up and began to walk toward the basement door.

I held my breath, straining to hear what was happening. My thoughts raced wondering if he had come back to check on me or if something else was going on.

The footsteps continued, and I could hear Matthew's murmured conversations, though I couldn't make out the words.

The door opens, and I see Matthew walking down, with a shadow figure behind him.

There he was.

Chris.

Chris's gaze was cold and calculating as he looked around the basement.

He glances behind me, and he clenched his jaw. "Why the fuck is he here?" Chris asked, his voice tight in anger.

Matthew shifted uneasily, his eyes darting between Chris and me. "I didn't know he'd be there when I came to get here," he said defensively.

Before he could say anything else, Chris struck him on his cheek making him fall to the ground.

Chris gets on top of him and starts to punch him repeatedly. "YOU IDIOT" Chris screamed, not being able to calm down.

I start to remember how he used to abuse me just like that.

I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead as I struggled against my restraints.

Finally, Chris anger seemed to have made him tired. He breathes out tirelessly as he stood up. His knuckles laced with his sons blood.

Matthew lay on the ground, battered and bruised, trying to catch his breath.

"I always have to do everything MYSELF" He went back upstairs and I start to hear mumbling coming from Isaiah.

"Wake up" I whispered to him as I looked around for something to cut this tape with.

"Matthew" I called out, my voice trembling but firm. "You still have a chance to make things right. Help us."

Matthew, his face battered and bruised, turned his head slightly toward me. His eyes were filled with pain and regret.

"I... I can't..." he whispered weakly, his voice barely audible. "Dad-"

"It starts now... and you think it would stop but it won't. He will continue to lash out, and he won't stop unless we stop him" I feel my eyes burn as a tear falls down my cheek.

"There's... a shattered glass behind you. Pass it to me" I demanded softly as he clenched his jaw.

He slowly reached for the broken glass, and slides it to me as I grip it with my shoe.

"Here, Isaiah" I pass it to him as he gets it immediately, by his foot.

I start to hear footsteps from upstairs and I hear stomping from the stairs to the basement.