Page 43 of Save Me
“Did he knock you up like that last one did?” her father asked, getting his attention.
“No, daddy. I’m not pregnant,” Crissy answered.
Her father glanced in his direction and then nodded. “At least he’s an improvement over that last feller.” He turned towards the kitchen and held up a jar full of brown liquid. “Want some tea?” her father asked them.
“No, thank you,” Crissy said and then shook her head at him.
“No, thanks,” he responded.
“Well, go ahead and sit down.” Her father motioned to the sofa. He really didn’t want to sit on the tattered sofa.
“Daddy,” Crissy said, taking a step towards the older man, “did you steal me?”
He had to admit Crissy’s fast approach did one thing in their favor. It surprised her father enough that the truth, no matter how quickly masked, flashed on the older man’s face.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Crissy noticed the look of guilt on her father’s face instantly. It was the number one reason he hadn’t been able to get away with anything in court. He had a shitty poker face.
“You did!” She took another step towards the man who had abused her all her life. What she wanted to do was beat the truth out of him. “From whom? Why?” She took another step forward.
She felt Brock’s gentle hand on her shoulder but was too busy demanding answers to care.
“Answer me!” she screamed.
“I think it’s time you left,” her father said, taking Crissy’s arm and moving to shove her towards the door.
Brock stepped forward and hovered over the man. “You don’t get to touch her,” Brock said in a low warning tone.
Her father turned to Brock, his face turning beet red. “You’d better back off, boy,” her father said loudly. “This is my property.”
“Is it? Legally?” Brock said in a calm tone as he stepped between her and her father, forcing her dad to drop his hold on her.
“What do you want? A confession?” Her father turned on her. “Fine. I stole ya.” He threw up his hands, pulled a bottle of moonshine from a tin can, and took a large swig.
She knew firsthand that he made the stuff himself. His still was probably not far from the hut he was calling home. When she’d been in middle school, she’d drank an entire jar of it in one sitting. She’d hoped to numb the pain after getting whooped with her father’s belt. Instead, she’d passed out and fallen out of the tree she’d been hiding in. She’d ended up with a busted finger and a sprained wrist. Not to mention that she’d vomited all the next day. It was the number one reason she only drank wine and beer. She detested the taste of anything stronger.
“From whom?” she asked, feeling her chest tighten.
He didn’t answer, but instead took several more swigs of the moonshine.
“Who?” She screamed it, the sound vibrating in the small space.
“That rich asshole who hired me and refused to pay me,” her father said with a laugh as he took another swig.
“Who?” she asked, shaking her head.
“Oswald!” her father spat back. “He had two of ya. I figured he owed me. Then, when he refused to pay the ransom…” He shrugged.
Crissy felt the panic attack coming on and sat down on the soiled sofa, not caring if her jean shorts got dirty or stained at this point. Everything about her felt dirty, starting from the inside out.
“Oswald?” she asked with a shake of her head.
“Patrick Oswald. He hired me to do some work around his big place, then refused to pay me what I was owed,” her father said between swigs.
“Oswald,” Crissy said several times, letting the name sink in. Then she replayed what her father had said. “He had two of us?” She glanced up and shook her head. “What does that mean?”
“Twins,” Brock said, showing her his phone. While she’d been processing the information, he’d been searching the internet.
