Loving a Bully

Caught You

The ferns that I had just collected overflowed from the basket over my arm.

I needed them to decorate a flower arrangement that I wanted to give to Dan and his wife to congratulate them on getting pregnant. The rest was to make little flower baskets for Dan to sell at the local fair.

“You didn’t need to trouble yourself, April,” Dan had told me once I showed him the first batch of flower baskets that I had made a year into hiding.

“I wanted to help out,” I explained.

He shook his head. “You and I... we’re not exactly destitute.”

Yet.

“Still, it’s good to have some extra income, Dan. You won’t touch the money your father put aside for you. And I can’t have access to my trust fund without him finding out.”

But Dan was stubborn. “I told you I have a job in town,” he insisted.

I let out a sigh. “Just take them. Sell them at the local market or something. And save the money to buy yourself a new truck.”

“I don’t need a new truck.”

I didn’t want to argue with him about helping out. So I glared him into submission then.

I couldn’t always rely on him so I helped with the finances by making flower and paper crafts and letting him sell them. Living here, I learned to be economical. Money had never been an issue growing up but since I threw that life away, I had realized that I shouldn’t be wasteful and use consumables wisely.

But I knew this could work.

First because I had Dan.

Second because I was good with art and with my hands.

The sun was setting when I exited the woods. It was getting colder and I wrapped my cardigan around myself tight. I should have just taken up Dan’s offer to transplant the ferns in my garden so I wouldn’t have to go far. But I knew that this was a hit-or-miss operation at best since we had to replant the clump without disturbing the roots in the slightest.

And I enjoyed these long walks. I loved walking in the forest. Especially when I knew where I was going.

The breeze that passed made the skirts of my loose cotton dress sway. A strand of my hair loosened from the bun behind my head. I slipped it over my shoulder and felt the roughness of my hand. I stopped and looked at my palms in the dying light. They were rough and calloused but the sight didn’t disgust me.

A smile formed on my lips.

They were proof of the hard work and sweat that came with the freedom that I was enjoying now.

Once upon a time, I had been called the richest girl in the city.

Now I was just... just me. And I liked it this way.

Making my way to the house, I stopped a few times to cut a few roses and hyacinths, and placed them in the basket with the ferns.

Then I felt it.

I felt it before I saw it.

My gaze jerked to my house.

The house was dark. The door partially opened.

I didn’t leave the house dark.

And I didn’t leave my door open.

For the past few days, I had a horrible feeling that something was coming, something bad.

It had finally come.

My heart thudded heavily inside my chest. I wanted to run. I knew what I’d see inside that house. I was terrified of what I’d seen inside that house. But I knew they’d get me before I could escape.

They always do.

I took a deep breath. Then another.

Maybe it was just Dan. Maybe he was just playing a joke. A nasty joke. It was the night of Halloween after all.

I walked up the porch. I pushed the door further open.

"Dan?" I called out tightly. "Are you here?"

Silence.

"Dan?"

A thud made me jerk back. It came from the living room. Every part of me was screaming to run. Every part of me was begging me to save myself. I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw. Then I opened them and walked further inside the dark house.

The light suddenly turned on.

I blinked several times in pain and surprise.

Then my eyes focused and I inhaled shakily.

Dan was kneeling on the floor.

His hands were tied behind his back and he’d been stripped to his waist. Fresh bruises and cuts covered his exposed skin. His head, slumped forward, slowly lifted. I bit back a scream. His mouth was gagged by a piece of cloth and his face was dripping with blood, so much blood.

"Dan," I whispered. "No."

He shook his head, his eyes telling me to escape while I could. But I couldn’t leave him. I wouldn’t leave.

Still, relief, overwhelming relief waved over me, weakening my knees, and comforting her.

They hadn’t killed him. They hadn’t killed Dan.

Yet.

Jerking into motion, I tried to get to him. But two huge men blocked my way and I swayed back on my feet. I inhaled another shaky breath when I recognized them. My father’s men.

Two of my father’s most sadistic men.

They found me.

Rodney and Oscar both grinned down at me. They were handsome men and they both knew it. They also disgust me. Knowing the things they’ve done, including to women and children, they deserve to be stripped down and tortured, not Dan. Not my sweet Dan.

As they stared, I schooled my features into one they know best.

Arctic indifference that had the bravest of my father’s henchmen flinch at the sight of it.

And a cool, calm, unaffected stare that had the rest going into deep freeze.

Just as I expected, their grins faltered. And just as I intended, they both glanced away.

“Remove yourselves from my path,” I enunciated very clearly so there was plenty of time for the icicles to form on my words.

They looked over their shoulders. I followed their gazes. A man was sitting on my favorite chair by the window, leaning back, his hands on the armrests, silently watching everything. My arms went limp at my sides when I recognized him. The basket fell the floor, the ferns and flowers that I had painstakingly collected spilling across the small space.

It was my father.

Oh, God, it was my father.

The monster found me.