I don’t, I don’t fucking like it. I cover her eyes with one hand and grab her hair with the other, I’m in a hurry to get this over with. I start thrusting into her mouth, making sure to hit her throat with force, and her gags become music to my ears. Having her like this, the same way she was for Zeke, is like erasing him from inside her and replacing it with me. When I am through with her, she will just know me, and all the others won’t exist.
My need to cum hits me fast and I slam into her mouth one more time, invading her throat as I shoot my load. I feel her tears hit my palm and grin as I lift my hand, bringing the wetness to my mouth. I lick the moisture as I pull out of her and moan at the salty flavor. Nothing ever tasted so good before.
Kailey drops from her knees and sits on the floor, she looks confused as her fingers brush along her lips.
“Charles Richard is working with someone to bring my family down.” I tell her as I do up my pants. “This someone also kept his nose lined in white and his pockets full.”
“Who was he working with?” She asks, her eyes meeting mine with disbelief.
“Is,” I repeat myself. “Who he is working with, Kailey. He never stopped, even when his ass was sitting in rehab and pretending to make himself better for his only daughter.”
“He was making himself better!” She protests and gets to her feet. “He went to rehab.”
“He had visitors, Kails. People that brought him the shit while he was in there and he took the time to refine his plan.” I could show her him detoxing right now in the next room.
“Okay,” she rolls her eyes in disbelief. “What plan was that Brody?”
“His plan to kill me.”
Her face drops and she backs up towards the bed, “that can’t be.”
“It is. I’m my father’s only heir after all, if I’m dead, who takes over the business?”
She sits on the bed and slides her fingers into her hair, she looks so beautiful when her heart is breaking.
“Who is he working for?” Her voice is low.
“There you go.” I snap my fingers at her. “Ask the right questions. He is working with the Ballons.”
“Oliver’s family?” Her face snaps up.
“Yes, the Teacher’s family.” I nod.
“The Ballons hate the Landry’s and hired my papa to take you out? Out of all the people, they choose him? It makes no sense, Brody.” She huffs.
“What if I told you he owed them a lot of money and with no means to pay it back?”
“Like he owed your family?” She sneers.
“Exactly like he owed my family. Only this time, there was no way to pay it back. So, they forced him to do a job.”
“Why give him that job?” She crosses her arms but I can see she’s starting to see the possibilities in what I’m saying.
“The Ballons know how close the Landrys and Richards were at one time. They know Charles was someone I once trusted.”
“I don’t believe he would’ve done it.” She shakes her head.
“Then you don’t know your father, Kails.” I snarl.
“What does that mean?” Her brows crinkle in confusion.
“He’s killed before.”
“He’s killed before.”
Now I know for sure Brody Landry has lost his mind. Papa killing anyone is just impossible, he’s too sweet and caring to endanger a life. I know this and I won't let Brody Landry tell me any different.
“I can see you don’t believe me. Maybe if you heard it from him?” He says, a smirk playing around the edges of his mouth.
I give him a once over and try my hardest to see the boy I once loved. He has to be in there, that boy would never believe this about Papa, and he would never force me into this situation. Can I find him and bring him back?
“He’s due for a washroom break and he’s not doing too well right now, but we can talk to him.” He tells me.
“Not doing too well?” I get to my feet. “What did you do, Brody?”
“He’s an addict, Kails. He needs a fix or withdrawals are a bitch.” He shrugs like it’s nothing.
“I want to talk to him.” I demand.
“Okay,” Brody nods. “I’ll freshen him up and bring him in.”
I watch him leave and sink back down on the bed. Is what he’s saying true? How caught up did my papa get with debt? I’ve seen the credit card bills and overdrawn account statements mailed to the house. The guys are paying them off for me and yet I can't see him getting in this deep. I know he would never kill anyone and I think Brody has a problem with seeing reality clearly.
I know Papa abused drugs and alcohol, but he shouldn’t be having withdrawals right now since he’s been in rehab for over three months. If he is, then I may have to believe Brody for everything else he’s said to be true.
About fifteen minutes later, the door unlocks and Brody drags in my papa. Only, it doesn’t look like my papa. His skin is pale and a sickly shade of gray, his eyes barely open. He’s not really walking, more like being dragged by Brody, and he’s sweating profusely. It looks like Brody was correct, Papa is going through withdrawals.
Brody sits him down in a chair and comes to stand beside me. I can’t take my eyes off my papa’s face but he has a hard time looking into mine.
“Papa.” I say softly but he still doesn’t meet my gaze.
“Charles,” Brody’s cold voice cuts in. “Your daughter has a few questions.”
“Everything he’s told you is a lie. We are prisoners here…” a cough wracks his body and I jump to my feet.
“Everything is a lie huh?” Brody sneers. “Then please explain to her what’s happening to you.”
“I have the flu and you will not get me medical attention.” His voice is hoarse and it sounds like he really is sick. But he has yet to look at me.
“He sounds thirsty.” I say to Brody.
“He’s not, I’ve been literally drowning him in Gatorade and fluids recommended for patients detoxing.” He shakes his head in disgust.
“Papa.” I call him again. This time, he raises his head slowly and the look in his eyes completely crushes me. He looks guilty and incredibly sad. “Tell me.”
“You look more and more like her every day.” He croaks out and I watch as tears begin to run down his cheeks. “It’s hard to look at you.”
“Because I look like Mama?”
“Yes, you are her spitting image and it breaks me a little every time I see you.” He mutters.
“What’s happening to you?” I ask him and gasp when he growls.
“I’m a fucking junkie, okay?” His voice cracks and breaks as it rises in octaves.
“How were you getting drugs in rehab?” Brody questions him.
“I’m not a bad person.” Papa says to me without answering Brody’s question. “I just owe people some money.”