Though despair and pain ate at her, she realized that she needed to stop thinking with her emotions and start trying to get herself out of this situation. If her father was comparing her to her mother, then she was in very big trouble.
"I think it would be best if we left the garage. Let's just go out into the yard and sort this out. I’m worried about you.” She tried to appeal to him. When his dark glare swung around, she added, “If you don't want to stay, then I'll distract them and you can run. Okay?"
"Liar," he growled angrily. "You're a liar and a whore. Just like your mother. You'll turn me over the second we’re out of here."
He wasn't wrong, but Amy didn't think she should tell him that. Instead she backed up a few steps, putting more space between them. She ran her hand along the workbench behind her, trying to find anything she could use as a weapon, but Jared kept his garage immaculately tidy. No tools lying around.
Her father didn't have the same problem. He dropped to one knee next to a big metal toolbox, flipped the top open and grabbed the first thing he saw, a heavy wrench. Amy's blood ran cold as he hefted it out of the box, facing her. She slid her ass along the workbench, putting even more space between them. If he was serious about attacking her it wouldn't be enough space. She was smaller, slower and weaponless. She only had words.
"Dad, I'm so sorry this is happening. I know everything was a misunderstanding with Mom. Let's talk about it." Amy used her most reasonable voice, but it wasn't enough.
"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid, you little bitch. You were always that way – too smart for your own good. Who’s smart now? You're gonna get knocked up by your biker neighbour and then he's gonna leave you and you'll have another brat to raise."
Amy's face stung with heat. Not just at his words, but the way he was spitting them at her, it was disgusting. Her father had always been cold and unapproachable, but nothing like this. So crude it hurt to listen to.
"You know that's not true," she defended herself. "Jared loves me and wants to take care of me, Sarah, Millie and Teagan. All of us."
"Well isn't that special for you,” he sneered, stepping toward her. "While I was rotting in a prison cell you were living it up, probably fucking anything that moved just to get ahead. Just like your mom."
There was no point in talking to him. Amy needed to get out of the garage and she needed to do it fast. She could hear people shouting outside, trying to put the fire out. As if reading her mind, her father lunged toward her, reaching for her with one hand and hefting the wrench with the other.
Amy let out a bloodcurdling scream, hoping that someone would hear her. She tried to run but her father caught the edge of her shirt and swung her around. She saw the wrench heading towards her head and quickly dropped to the ground. It sailed harmlessly past.
Instead of climbing to her feet, Amy rolled underneath the SUV. She was much smaller than her father and could easily fit under a vehicle. If he tried to come after her, she would roll out the other side and run out the garage door.
"Amy!" She heard someone bellow her name outside the garage.
Her father dropped to his knees and glared at her under the vehicle. "Amy Funk, you get your ass out here right now!"
He tried to use his most stern dad voice.
"So you can kill me with a wrench? With the fuck is wrong with you?" she shouted back at him, no longer caring if she set him off. The man seemed determined to be angry no matter what. “You killed my mother, you bastard!”
She screamed for help, praying that it would come fast enough.
Her father decided on a new tactic. Since he wasn't getting out of there, he was going take her down with him. He shouted obscenities at her while throwing whatever he could get his hands on underneath the vehicle at her. He couldn't get a lot of leverage, but Amy took a good beating from a series of tools he hurled under the vehicle at her.
She curled in a ball and wrapped her arms over her head, screaming when something hard caught her on the hip. That was going to bruise.
"I'm going to fucking kill you!" her father screamed, throwing something else. It hit the ground with a metallic bang and then rattled as it came towards her. It got her in the shoulder, but it didn't hurt. Amy peeked out through her arms to see what it was. A spray paint can.
"And I'm going to see you rot in jail, you fucking psycho!" Amy gripped the can and rolled out from the other side.
It was time to leave the garage.
She hurtled toward the garage door opener, nailing it with the palm of her hand. As she swung back around, her father hit her with her wrench, bringing it down on her forearm. Pain jolted through her and she hoped the arm wasn’t broken. He reared back to hit her again and Amy swung the spray can around, getting him with a face full of silver metallic spray. He stumbled back, screaming obscenities and clutching his face.
Amy ran straight toward the front of the garage where the door was slowly rising. She hit the ground with her knees and rolled, not wanting to stay for a second longer than she had to.
Nineteen
Jared hadn't wanted to leave Amy for the day, but he had to get back to work. One of the job sites had been broken into overnight – tools stolen, graffiti on the side of the building, windows broken. Jared's job was to direct the employees on cleanup, get the tradesmen working again, and find out who vandalized the site.
He had placed security on his house to keep Amy safe, which helped him feel marginally better about leaving her alone, but she was always in the back of his mind. He hated that her father was free to harass her and her siblings. He needed to hunt the guy down, figure out what his deal was and then decide what to do with him.
At the job site, it was becoming clear that the place had been ransacked by someone with an agenda against Vincent and Jared. Though it was made to look like an unprofessional job with the graffiti and the missing tools, whoever had done it had gone for maximum damage. They'd ensured that the job would be set back by weeks, losing the company thousands of dollars.
"Ghosts." Avery, head of security at the jobsite, spat the word like it was dirty.
Jared nodded in agreement. It most likely was the work of their former biker pals. Ironic that the club was called the Ghosts when that's all Jared and Vince had left behind when they took out the club.
Unfortunately, these ghosts were becoming all too real. They’d been a thorn in the side for far too long. It was time to cut them down to size again. Maybe take out the lot of them, instead of leaving a few behind.
As he was talking to Avery, a prickling at the back of his neck told him something was wrong. Instantly he thought of Amy and was reaching for his phone to call her when it started ringing. He dug it out of his pocket and answered quickly, looking at the name as he lifted it. Enrico.
"Start talking," Jared growled.
Enrico was to update him regularly on Amy's movements and the happenings at the house. However, Enrico was only to check in at specific times unless something had gone wrong. Which meant, he was calling now because something was wrong.
Enrico didn't hesitate. "Your girl's house is on fire."
Jared crooked his finger at Avery and started running toward his vehicle.