Pretty and Reckless (10 page)

His jaw hung open. “Wow, pardon my French, but that’s fucked up.”

“Welcome to my world.”

ELISE

“What are you doing here?” I asked, shutting my front door in hesitation when I found him waiting in my apartment. He was slouched against the couch cushions with a glass of liquor in his hand. My lips screwed into a grimace while he stared at me with bloodshot eyes from across the room. I looked away from him and noticed an empty bottle of Scotch resting on the table with the lid sitting beside it.

“I wanted to visit my baby girl,” he slurred, patting the seat next to him. He held up the glass in a ‘cheers’ motion, turned it up to his lips and took a long drawl. Just fucking great. He was wasted. This was the last thing I wanted to deal with.

“You’re drunk dad,” I spat, unbuckling my coat and placing it on the hook as my stomach boiled in disgust. I wanted to turn around, leave, and not come back until his presence was gone. But I knew I couldn’t do that now. It was too late. I needed to get him the hell out of my place before I shoved that bottle up his ass.

He held his hands up in the air, his smile turning sinister. “Guilty.”

“Then why don’t you go home and sober up?”

I didn’t need him hanging around there. He was an angry and emotional drunk.
The worst kind.

He polished off his drink, slammed it down onto the table, and then struggled to get to his feet. “I need a favor,” he told me, loosening his necktie while he gained composure of himself and came my way.

I crossed my arms across my chest. “What kind of favor?” I questioned, not necessarily wanting to hear his answer. My heart started to thump harshly and my shoulders went tight. Favors were never good.

“I have a potential client flying in from France,” he said, his legs stopping just a few feet away from me. He settled his hands onto the dining room table. “He’s big time, high powered and reputable to be in business with. You know how much French men appreciate an attractive woman. I need you to entertain him for a few hours, possibly a night, whatever he prefers. He needs a date for dinner and I’d like for you to show him around the city. It would do good to get you out, too. You’re always saying you’re bored sitting around this place and want to get out more.” He grinned wide like he’d conjured up the perfect plan with his deranged mind.

I gulped before having the ability to speak. “Hire a whore,” I spat.

“Have you seen the whores dragging around this city? They’re trashy. They’re shit,” he said, scoffing in disgust. “Every decent one got busted in that ridiculous prostitution raid. I can’t send him a ragged, piece of shit hooker that could be picked up on any corner. He needs someone beautiful. He needs high class and that’s what you’re going to give him.”

The hell I was. “Did you just refer to me, your daughter, as a hooker?” I fired back.

He moved his jaw back and forth before clenching it tight. “I don’t ask you for much.”

Was he kidding?
“Nu uh, I’m not doing it,” I said, throwing my hands up in the air. “I thought this shit was over!”

“Just one last time, and I promise, no more.”

“Absolutely not. I’ve allowed you to take advantage of me for far too long.” My chest ached and I knew deep down there was no way I was getting out of it. When he wanted something, he got it.

“It’s not happening,” I continued to argue, swallowing a large lump forming in the base of my throat. I shook my head violently, pushing my purse higher up my shoulder as I stalked towards my bedroom. “Now, go home and sleep off all of that alcohol. You rank.”

I jumped and whipped around when his fist pointed against the table in front of me. His venomous, cold eyes sparked to life as he charged towards my way and pushed me back before I had the chance to flee. I landed with a loud thud against the wall. I gasped, when I felt his large body hover over mine.

“I’ve taken advantage of you?” He snarled. Every limb in my body shook as he manhandled me in the corner. He’d revamped from extremely intoxicated to highly alert in a matter of seconds. “Let’s think of this as your job. It’s not like I don’t pay you for the shit that you do.” His face leveled with mine. I shook my head and cringing at the noxious smell of alcohol withering up my nostrils. “You’ve been wanting your own car, let’s look at this as a simple exchange, shall we?” His hot spit splattered against my cheeks.

“No,” I argued, looking away from him as I tried to level my breathing. “I’m not selling my body for a car.”

He bared his teeth, his nostrils flaring. Nobody told this man no, especially not me. “You’ll do it,” he growled.

I gasped when his body pushed into mine roughly. “The hell I will!”

The heat of his finger smacked into my cheek. “Don’t make me force you,” he threatened. “You know neither of us will enjoy that.”

I shut my eyes, taking three long breaths before slowing opening them up. I stared up at him, his face still wrapped up in fury, and I knew I having this conversation in his state was a very bad idea.

“I’ll think about it,” I said, forcing my voice to stay calm. “Go home, we’ll talk about this in the morning.” I attempted to duck underneath his arm to maneuver around him, but I didn’t make it too far. I shrieked out in pain when his hand forcefully wrapped around my arm and he threw me back against the wall.

He pinned me against it, his arms cornering me in and grabbed both of my hands to stretch them above my head. I cried out when he pressed down on them painfully so I couldn’t move. Hips lips curled up, looking directly at me while I struggled to break free.

“You’re just like her, you know that, you stupid fucking cunt? At least she was smart enough to know to spread her legs for something of value. But you do it for fucking free. You’re a free whore.”

I ignored him, squirming while trying to grab his hands above mine to drag them off. My legs shook while I tried to fight against him and made him angrier. His hold clamped onto me and shot more pain through my body. I whimpered when he glared down at me in amusement and terror immediately hit me.

This was it. He’d been angry with me before, but this was different. His eyes had always been full of hate and anger, but tonight they were twisted with something darker. Something evil.

 
“Whores don’t deserve respect,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “You don’t respect yourself or your body. You deserve pain.” I shut my eyes, and the scent of alcohol grew stronger. “You look just like her, just like that stupid, fucking slut. God cursed you by giving you her looks. He fucked you right from the very start.”

A gasp of air escaped my chest when he released an arm, but my stomach coiled when I realized he wasn’t letting me go. No, he was just getting started. He traced the outline of my mouth with cold, fumbling fingers and then moved them down to slide along my breastbone, down my stomach and then to my waist.

“God, I miss her so fucking much,” he muttered. I shuddered when his mouth hit my ear. My heart pounded so hard against my chest that I was sure it was going to crack open my rib cage and fall down at our feet. My bones wanted to shake themselves rid of my skin and flee the scene. This wasn’t happening. No. This couldn’t be happening right now.

“Dad … stop,” I said, slowly, holding back a scream. My breathing constricted, beating against my lungs, but I tried to do my best to act normal.

“God, I wanted her so much. I miss her. I miss her touch.” He balled up my shirt in his fist and I began to panic when his clammy hand started to roam across the bare skin of my belly, my skin crawling at his touch.

I bit my lip when his erection pressed in between my thighs. Why wasn’t I screaming? Why wasn’t I fighting? Why the fuck couldn’t I move? It was like I was paralyzed.

“She loved it when I fucked her.” He thrust towards me again, rougher this time. “But eventually, that wasn’t enough. I wish she were here now, so I could show her how a real man fucks. Do you know how a real man fucks? Not one who’s paying for it?” I shrunk back at the feel of his tongue darting along my earlobe at the same time his hand slid between my legs.

This wasn’t the first time something like this has happened. When my dad drank, he got mean. He also got nostalgic. He missed my mom and all of the bad shit came up with every sip of alcohol. His mind would go into a different world and he’d think I was
her
, but after a few minutes he’d wake up and snap back into reality. He’d never let it go this far before. I was terrified to find out where his limits were tonight. As each day passed, he was becoming more and more of a monster.

Panic engulfed me the moment he unsnapped the button of my jeans. I tried to swat his hand away, but he slammed me harder against the wall.

“Don’t you dare fucking fight it or it’ll turn
ugly.
I’m going to get you prepared for this guy tomorrow. You will meet him, you will do whatever he wants.”

“Dad!” I finally managed to scream out, trying to push him away again.

“I’ve been waiting to have you in my arms again,” he muttered, his mouth back to my ear, his fingers fidgeting with my zipper.

“I’m not her!” I struggled to bring up a knee, aiming it towards his growing, but his hold on me was too strong.

He continued to grind against me when he dipped a hand into my pants while I scratched at his hands to release me. I used my nails, teeth, anything to move, but he wasn’t letting me go.

His hand went to my mouth to block my voice when I screamed out for help. He cursed when I managed to sink my teeth into the rough skin of his palm, brought his hand back to inspect the wound, and slapped me across the face.

My head whiplashed to the side and it dawned on me. I was about to be raped by my own father. This wasn’t a strange man I’d never met. This was the one who was supposed to love and protect me. I pushed to breathe, working hard for it, but I was losing all my power and will to fight. My head fell back at another smack in the face. I drifted into another world, to the place I went to every time this happened to me, my real life nightmare.

Another smack woke me up from my trance. I screamed for help again. My head flew forward, knocking into his, at the sound of the door opening. My eyes shot open to see Marlon barreling into the room. His entire body suspended, like he was frozen in time, when he realized what was happening.

I looked over my dad’s shoulder with pleading eyes when I heard the quiet zip of my dad’s pants through the silence. Marlon’s stared in shock, and I mouthed, “Please do something.”

My dad was oblivious to Marlon’s presence as he harshly pulled down on the waist of my jeans. I didn’t know what Marlon was going to do. I could tell he was contemplating with himself. If he stood up for me, he’d be fired and unable to support his family.

“Holy shit!” Marlon finally yelled, the chords in his neck bulging while he rushed towards us.

“Help me!” I gasped.

He grabbed my dad’s arm. “Mr. Parks!” He screamed, tugging him back. My dad ignored him, his attention focused on his attempt to get my pants off. “Mr. Parks!” Marlon yelled again, louder this time, but got nothing.
 

I hovered forward when the weight of his body left me and he was slammed onto the floor.

“What the fuck!” My dad yelled, looking up at Marlon in anger.

“Go to your room and lock the door,” Marlon instructed me, pushing my dad back down when he tried to get up and make a grab for me.

“Elise!” My dad screamed, his arm reaching out, his face falling. “What did I do?” He asked, his voice breaking as reality sunk in.
 

I ignored him, nearly tripping over my own feet when I grabbed my purse and sprinted to my bedroom. I twisted the lock, double-checking it was secure, and the tears began to pour down my face. I tossed my purse onto my bed and quickly began rummaging through it until I found my phone. I had to get out of this place.

I called the one person I knew would help me.

I called him.

He’d become my go-to.

This man I hardly knew was becoming my savior, my confidante, my run-to.

“I need you,” I cried out when he picked up. I tried my best to sound controlled, but I knew the warning was clear.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

“I need you right now. Please, come get me.” I ran my arm along my face to rid of the tears I wished I wasn’t crying for him.

“I’m on my way.”

“Meet me in the back entrance by the fire escape.”

“Got it.”

And just like that.

No questions asked, just, “I’m on my way.”

Those four words meant more to me than any dollar in the world. My entire life I’d been surrounded by people who only saw me as an opportunity, or as the fucked-up slut. But Weston, he saw more than that. He wasn’t there for me to get something in return. He was there for me because he cared.

I tossed clothes into my bag hurriedly, pulled my jeans back up and buckled them before throwing a sweatshirt over my head and pulling up the hood. I flung the bag over my shoulder and slowly opened my bedroom door. The room was quiet and empty. I didn’t know where my dad or Marlon went, but I wasn’t going to wait around to find out.

I scurried out of my apartment, down the hallway, pushed open the emergency exit doors and sprinted down the stairs. We’d lived in the complex for thirteen years, and I’d been sneaking out since I was fourteen. I knew the place like the back of my hand.