The devil had come to make him pay in his daughter’s blood.
A small part of her hadn’t thought he could take the oath after what had happened that night, but she had been wrong. Maxwell had just swept it under the rug, and all of Kansas City would never know the devil himself resided there.
“Congratulations, Mr. Mayor.”
Another pit in her stomach began as the congratulatory handshakes started.
“Happy New Year, Mrs. Masters.”
She took a small step back. Please ignore me.
A hand extended out to her. “Happy New Year to you, too, Chloe.”
Staring at the manly hand extended to her, her mouth ran dry. She could feel her father’s harsh gaze on her.
She slightly lifted her hand before putting it back down. “I-I’m sorry. I’m a g-germaphobe.” She made sure to say it just loudly enough for people to hear so that it would spread by gossip, or if she were lucky, the newspaper. That way, she would never have to shake a hand ever again, and that was a win she needed, being the mayor’s daughter. The amount of places and events she was going to be forced to attend to shake the hands of strangers in the future was something she didn’t want to think about.
The room had gone silent at her words, and the focus had been drawn to her, scaring her shitless. The people around the room all looked as if they were examining the scars on her face and thinking one unison thought: freak.
She felt it then, the bile slowly creeping up her throat.
“Excuse m-me.”
Running out the room, she could hear her father explaining how she had been feeling under the weather. She could hear his unspoken words that were just for her, telling her that she should be afraid. Very, very afraid.
Managing to keep from vomiting, she went to her room as quickly as she could and locked the door behind her. Her breathing was heavy as she backed away from the door, wondering if she had made the right choice.
There was only one way to find out.
*
He took a swig of his beer and sat back in his chair, smiling at the TV screen. The sight of her brought back the feelings he’d had the last time he had seen her. He thought his work looked beautiful on her, and he felt satisfied that, every time she looked in the mirror … She sees me.
Laughing wickedly, he could tell, even though he was no longer physically hurting her, she was fucked up mentally.
“I told you it would just hurt worse, little girl.”
*
The loud banging on the door had her hiding under the covers.
“Unlock this goddamn door right now!”
Even though Maxwell had learned how to become a functioning alcoholic over the past few weeks, she could hear the drinks he had consumed tonight in his bellowing voice.
“You embarrassed the hell out of me and your mother tonight!”
Fear started to creep in as it went quiet. She had greatly underestimated her father’s wrath, and she just prayed she was going to survive.
Boom.
A body slammed into the door.
Chloe had been wrong.
Tears streamed down her face, caught upon her pillow that was now getting soaked.
“If you don’t open this fucking door right now, so help me God, I’ll make it worse for you.”
The whisper of hands cuffed her wrists. “Stay still, little girl, or it’ll just hurt worse.”
Her father was becoming the devil’s disciple. The fear she felt inside of her rivaled the fear she had felt while standing in the presence of the devil.
Bam.
The door flung open, and pure rage filled the room
Chloe held on tightly to the covers as she furiously held her eyes shut, hoping this was all just another nightmare.
Maxwell stalked to her bed. “Let this be your first lesson.”
A second later, Chloe felt him roughly pick her up with her blanket before he threw her across the room a second later. Being touched through the covers didn’t burn her skin like it would have if he had touched her flesh, but it still hurt.
The blanket had broken most of her fall, but she did take a good bang to the head against the wall.
Sitting up, she watched her father through tears as he walked over to her. The sight of him made her blood run cold.
“You’re going to learn that crying won’t help you. I’m done listening to it.”
One final tear rolled down her cheek. Chloe didn’t know it, but it would be the last tear she would shed.
Maxwell moved while she closed her eyes.
So help me God.
Fourteen
Watching Your Best Friend Turn into A Monster
Walking up to the school after Christmas break gave Chloe mixed feelings. Her father had mentally tortured her every night, and the night of his swearing in, he had stepped it up a notch. She hadn’t cried a tear since realizing her father was right: Crying didn’t erase her past. Crying didn’t make touch easier for her to take. Crying didn’t make the nightmares stop. Crying had never once saved her or made one thing easier for her.