“No need to babysit me, asshole,” I say under my breath as I walk past him, completely ignoring his extended hand. The last thing I want from him is affection. I hear his intake of deep breath and his heavy steps behind my own.
My tired foot touches the top step leading up to the front door, and I reach for the handle, but the door swings open on its own before I make contact.
“Welcome. I’m so glad you’re here. We’ve been looking for you.” Jared’s voice meets my ears, and I look up to his face.
Instead of saying something bitchy, I simply keep my mouth shut as I walk past him and into what I assume is his house. It smells like a man and looks, well… like a bachelor pad. The walls are painted a deep gray, leather couches and a huge flat screen with various electronics in front of it. As I round the corner, coming to stand in the living room, I take in the kitchen. It’s simple but sleek.
“I think you should sit down, Amara,” Enzo says behind me, his hand landing on my shoulder heavily. I immediately pull back as if his touch is searing my skin like a hot iron.
“I think you should never touch me again,” I growl, taking a step away to put more distance between us. In his eyes, a fiery rage stirs like a volcano ready to blow. “You lost the right to touch me, and don’t think you will ever earn it back.”
His hands once brought me immense pleasure, but with it came pain. Dark, stab yourself in the heart, pain. Such deep and angry pain, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to come back from it. I saved myself today, not with an ounce of help from this man—he killed my father, yet he still feels he has the right to touch me? Protect me?
“Amara…” I turn my attention to Jared, the concern etched into his features is obvious. His dark hair is a mess, and his eyes look haunted as if he’s about to tell me something I won’t like. I guess there isn’t any better time than now.
“Tell me. Someone needs to tell me what the fuck is going on,” I demand. Both Enzo and Jared look at each other with matching worried expressions.
“I think we should—” Jared starts.
“I think you should tell me. Right fucking now.” My eyes narrow at the two of them. Keeping secrets in the situation we are in isn’t helping.
Enzo’s large hand curls into his hair as he goes around the couch to sit down.
Taking a deep breath, Jared exhales. “John wasn’t your father.”
The words hit me like a brick wall, my mind spiraling out of control.
“Why would you say something like that?”
“Because it’s true.”
“Funny, ’cause I remember very clearly John being there my entire life, reading me bedtime stories, teaching me how to ride a bike, and taking me to the father-daughter dance. I don’t remember a different dad being there. So don’t insult the memory of my father with your fucking lies. Thanks to Enzo, he’s nothing but a dead body on my childhood home’s wood floor.”
Jared cringes at the words.
“No, I mean John wasn’t your biological father.”
“You’re lying,” I cry out, not wanting to hear anything else he has to say.
Jared shakes his head, dark locks falling onto his forehead. “I was trying to find you and when I was digging for some info—”
“Stop!” I back away further until my back is against a wall.
“I went to my father and asked if he could help—”
“Just stop. Make it stop,” I scream, my throat aching. I can’t handle it anymore. My fingers grip at my scalp to bring something else to life. To make me feel something other than the pain of betrayal and death.
“Amara, John lied. He wasn’t your father.”
“I don’t fucking care… I don’t care! He was the man who raised me. He was my father in any way that counts. Even if you are telling the truth, it doesn’t matter. Don’t you get that?” I yell, feeling my body losing the last bit of energy as I slump to the floor.
“Let me take care of her and get her cleaned up. Then you can talk to her,” I hear Enzo say. I’m over everything. I want to turn it all off. I want the hate, anger, and sadness to go away.
Looking up at him with tears clinging to my lashes, I see Jared nod. I get the feeling that there is more he wants to tell me, but I just don’t have the energy to listen.
Enzo walks over, bends down, and scoops me up in his arms. I don’t want to be held or touched by the man who has caused me so much heartache, but I don’t think I can manage to walk—hell, even stand.
He carries me down the hall to the right and then into a bedroom. Sitting me on the bed, he turns around and closes the door. The silence eats away at everything that made us who we are.
Pulling at my dirty clothes, I rip them off, not caring if he watches me. I don’t want to be covered in dirt any longer. I don’t want to be reminded of this day ever again.
Once in my bra and panties, I cross the room to what I assume is the bathroom.
“You can’t run from this.” He sounds as if he has a fire in his voice. He has no reason to be angry.
“I can and will do whatever the fuck I want, Mr. King. You’re nothing to me. You lost me the moment you betrayed me.” Once in the bathroom, I slam the door and lock it. I don’t want to see his face. I want nothing to do with him. My heart aches with every beat as if it is going to burst from an overflow of heartache.
I pull away from the door just as the pounding starts. I know if he truly wants to be in this room, he could get in.
“Leave. Go away. I hate you,” I scream, placing my hands over my ears to rid myself of the noise.
“Amara, stop being childish.” I can hear the terror in his voice. He thought he was losing me. Good. He needs to. He needs to know I am out of his grasp.
“Childish? Childish? First, you hold a gun to my head because your asshole employee lies. That was the first time you betrayed me. Then, you don’t come for me for weeks. Weeks! Then you put a gun to my head AGAIN, threaten to kill me, cut me with your knife, and kill my father in front of me. And now you have the audacity to call my behavior childish?” I scream, standing to turn the shower on. I allow the water to run, making the bathroom fill with steam.
“You are delusional, and I don’t know why I’m here. You already took everything from me. I’d rather be dead than here with you, and don’t think that I won’t do everything I can to kill you the first chance I get.”
“I’ll leave you alone for now, but later, we need to talk.” He sounds so full of himself. He doesn’t know me—not like I thought anyway. Ignoring him, I slip into the hot steam and arch into the water—God, how long has it been since I had a decent wipe down... since I had actually been clean?
Though the hot water is pouring down over me, my tears still stain my cheeks. John wasn’t my father… I sink to the bottom of the tub, my heart and mind aching as I place my hand on my chest. I can feel the chain beneath my fingertips, and the weight of the heart dangling against my chest.
It has become heavy as if it is carrying the weight of my sorrows. I can feel every muscle in my body tense up as I wrap my fist around the heart on the chain. What happened? Everything I once knew has changed. A sob escapes my tightly closed lips as I pull on the heart, yanking the necklace from my neck. I hold it tightly in my hand as I process all my emotions. I need to let go, but how can I? I have so many questions and no answers.