Chapter 4
1 dumped Adam the next day. He agreed so fast.
I stayed in the hospital for a few more days after that. My mother and sisters never bothered to visit.
But my father rushed back from his business trip in Chicago. He came straight from the airport, still carrying his briefcase, eyes wild with worry.
When he saw me–bandaged and broken–his face crumpled. He reached out to stroke my hair, his hand trembling.
“Jesus, Emma. I’m so sorry, baby girl.” His voice broke. “I failed you. I should’ve been here. I just… I don’t know what to do about your mother anymore.”
Tears spilled down his weathered face, but I couldn’t blame him.
He was the only one in my family who care about me, who hadn’t written me off like yesterday’s trash. Whenever Mom went into one of her rages, Dad was the human shield between her fists and my face.
But they were still married. He couldn’t exactly throw his wife in jail without destroying the whole family. The most he could do was play defense, and even that was limited since his job kept him on the road most weeks.
Still, knowing he cared gave me something to live for.
Over the years, I’d thought about running away like a thousand times. But Dad’s love was the anchor that kept me from drifting away completely.
Thinking about that damn video, I grabbed his hand like it was a lifeline.
“Dad, can you promise me something?”
He gave me that warm smile that always made everything seem less horrible.
“Anything, kiddo.”
I locked eyes with him, desperate. “Please don’t ever watch whatever video Mom has on her phone. Please don’t leave me too.”
His brow furrowed. “What video?”
“Just promise me you won’t watch it!”
“Okay, okay! Scout’s honor. I won’t watch any videos.”
“Do you swear you’ll always love me, Dad?”
“Emma, honey, I’ll love you till the day I die. That’s non–negotiable.”
I believed him. I really did. As long as he never saw that video, I’d still have one person in this world who didn’t
16:46
The Dosth Darli
Chapter 4
want me dead.
He also promised to set me up in my own apartment–somewhere Mom wouldn’t know about–so I could finally
escape.
I agreed, feeling hopeful for the first time in forever.
But I never imagined that my father–who had looked me in the eye and promised–would flip the script in less than 24 hours.
16:46
When discharge day
The moment I limped through the front door, Mom launched a half–empty vodka bottle straight at me. It smashed against my already–broken arm, and the pain made me see stars.
She sat sprawled on the couch, glaring at me like I was something she’d scraped off her shoe. “Why couldn’t you just die out there and save everyone the trouble?”
Blinking back tears, I looked desperately toward the recliner where Dad sat scrolling through his phone.
But this time, he didn’t leap to my defense. Didn’t even look up.
Mom, sensing his indifference, went full psycho. She yanked away my crutch and shoved me hard. I collapsed onto the hardwood floor, pain shooting through my broken leg.
I looked up at her through tears. “Mom, what did I ever do to you? Haven’t you beaten me enough over the years? Will you only be happy when I’m dead?”
She hawked and spat on the floor next to my face, then raised the crutch like a baseball bat.
“That’s exactly right. I wish you’d never been born!”
The crutch came down across my back. Again. Again. My screams bounced off the walls of our MC Masion, but no one outside would hear. The neighbors‘ houses were too far away–one of the “perks” of living in an upscale suburb.
Dad just sat there, flipping through pages on his tablet like he was checking the stock market while I was being murdered ten feet away.
Until I broke and called for him.
“Dad! Please! Help me!”
I expected him to rush over like he always had before. To pull Mom off me, to stand between us.
But he didn’t move a muscle.
“You’ve upset your mother,” he said flatly, not looking up. “She needs to get it out of her system.”
His words hit harder than any blow. The fragile thread of hope I’d been clinging to snapped.
No. No way. Had he watched the video after all?
“Dad,” I choked out between sobs, “did you watch it? You promised you wouldn’t! You said you’d help me move out!”
After I shouted that last part, I noticed Mom’s hand shake uncontrollably for a second.
But Dad just stood up with an irritated sigh, walked over, and kicked me in the side.
16:47
The Death Dealing Video on My Mom’s Phone
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