Chapter 5
I came back to the house in a great mood, only to find Dad sitting on the couch with a stormy expression, waiting for me.
Quinn actually had a smile for me-rare-but it looked smug as hell.
“Dad, I’m home.”
Dad didn’t respond. I racked my brain trying to figure out what I’d done wrong.
Had they discovered that I’d been spitting in their cups?
I glanced at Dad, and when he still didn’t speak, I figured I should make a strategic retreat and get the hell out of there.
Dad hurled the glass in his hand at my feet. It shattered, and tiny shards cut into my flesh.
“Oh my, Lincoln, don’t do that! It won’t be good if the child’s face gets hurt.”
Meaning it was fine to hurt other parts of me?
I couldn’t control my emotions anymore and glared at Quinn with pure hatred.
Quinn pretended to be scared and shrank behind Dad.
SMACK-
Dad slapped me hard across the face, pointing at my nose and roaring: “What the hell was that look?”
“I feed you, I clothe you, but apparently I’ve been raising an ungrateful little bitch! Not only do you take my money, you steal from
my house like some damn rat!”
I pressed my tongue against my aching cheek, tasting blood.
You could tell how hard Dad had hit me.
I figured out what Dad was pissed about-he must’ve seen me giving money to Mom.
Time to be smart about this.
“Dad, I was wrong.”
Dad held out his hand, and I obediently handed over all my remaining money.
My compliance didn’t earn me any forgiveness. He tore apart my room and all my belongings, even had Quinn search me to make sure I didn’t have any more money hidden on me before he finally stopped.
I was made to kneel as punishment.
I tried to stay positive, thinking that if I’d known Dad would confiscate the rest of the money anyway, I should’ve just spent it all.
After two hours, Dad finally let me get up.
My legs wouldn’t straighten anymore. I just lay on the floor, waiting for the numbness to fade before the pain kicked in.
It was fine.
I could handle pain-I was used to it, in my last lifetime.
