Chapter Song: Dark Days by Punch Brothers
Bella felt like an idiot for not being more cautious. She'd overestimated how safe she was. She thought no sane person would try to take someone with twenty four hour watch on them. The problem was this man was so far from sanity he probably couldn't even spell it.
He was still talking, making less sense by the syllable, "Daddy's so sorry, baby girl, for staying away so long and for your momma and little sister dying. I killed everyone for you and them. Aren't you happy?" So he was under the impression that killing her loved ones and dozens of innocent people was for her and his lost family. This was way worse than she first imagined.
She couldn't speak. But the tears were free flowing at this point. He miss took them for happiness. He hugged her again, nearly squeezing the life out of her. She half hoped he'd suffocate her. "I'm glad to finally have you back too. They took you from me. Them two murderers stole and brainwashed you! It's okay, daddy's here now." He started petting her hair and she shuddered. She'd rather have a million poisonous spiders all over her than have him touch her for even a second. She was powerless to stop him though.
He pulled back to look into her eyes. "Do you forgive me for not being able to save momma and sissy and for not being able to take you away from those horrible people? I would've, if I could've, but they would've ran away with you. That's why I killed them, I was trying to find and save you."
Bella choked on her tears, remembering that Christmas Eve night vividly. From the look in his eyes, he thought he was a savior. A vigilantly. When in reality, if he was really her father—which she knew he wasn't since she was born two years after the accident with a legit birth certificate in a lock box at home to prove it. She'd also had an article about the private funeral for his wife and two children—but if he truly believed he was her father, and if he truly loved her, he would've never killed the people who'd only raised and cared for her with nothing but unconditional love for ten years. No, he didn't love her. He was sick and demented with no grasp on reality.
The madness in his eyes was endless. She saw all her fears and pain in them.
He pressed the knife to her neck. "Forgive me!"
She swallowed, trachea pushing against the blade and nicking her. She felt the warm blood slowly slide down her neck.
He got right in her face, pressing the knife harder against her skin and causing it to sting while his rancid breath puffed up her nose. "Tell me you forgive me!"
She should've been thinking about her parents. She should've been thinking about all the innocent people he brutally killed. She should've even been thinking about her Aunt Jane. But all she could think was, I don't want to die.
Her tears that were just starting to dry came back with vengeance as she opened her mouth to commit the ultimate betrayal, "I forgive you. I forgive you."
He visibly relaxed, lowering the knife.
She started to hyperventilate as she imagined her parents turning their backs to her. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, she hollered in her head, but they still wouldn't look at her.
"Are you hungry?" he asked as if he didn't just have a knife to her jugular.
She shook her head as she sunk further into darkness—something she didn't realize was inside her until just then. The vastness of the empty space inside her was almost jolting, if she could've cared, which she couldn't. She was too occupied hating her weak self to care about anything, except saving her own skin apparently. For as bad as she felt, she knew that she'd still say or do whatever he wanted to survive.
