You’re nothing but a whore and a slut. Who would sleep with their best friend’s dad? Who would fuck the man who took them? Someone sick and twisted, that’s who.
She splashed cold water on her face, ignoring the pain in her temples. This wasn’t the time or place to be listening to her scary thoughts. She had to get control of herself and not get lost in the pain.
When she no longer felt like she was going to throw up, she opened the door and closed it behind her. She wore sneakers, so they didn’t make a sound as she walked across the room, heading back to where Reaper and Preacher were talking.
“You know, I find it interesting you’re still sniffing around her,” Reaper said. “I’m the father. I’m the one with the kid. Robin belongs to me. You’ve got to admit defeat.”
“You think you’ve won her?”
“Look where I am. You’ve got to understand, Preacher, she will always return to me. Bethany is my flesh and blood. Did you know I got her to admit she loved me? Robin is mine, and you lost her. All this time, you trusted all the wrong people.”
“Then why did Robin come to me last night? I find this all fascinating. You took Robin not because you wanted her; no, that came later. You took her so you could hurt me. When it comes to my woman, your feelings are all about hate. It’s what you can get out of it, not what you feel for Robin.”
“I love Robin.”
“No, you don’t.”
Reaper laughed. “And you’re an expert?”
“Did you know Robin got a good look at the men who attacked her? She told me all about it. How you were going out to the store or something with Bethany. All a very convenient way to make sure Robin was alone. It was all just a little too perfect how they were able to enter your home, take Robin, and you didn’t have a clue.”
Robin’s body went completely cold.
Preacher continued. “You see, I took Robin to Billy. You know, the guy in charge, and he had one of those sketch artists. We were able to run the images from her memory through his computer and you know what we found?”
Reaper didn’t say anything.
“I know those men and I know they’re your boys. The only way they could have gotten to Robin was if you let them. If you gave them the motherfucking key to your house. They would be under your instruction the entire time.”
No, this couldn’t be happening.
“You can’t prove anything.” Those were Reaper’s words. No denial. No nothing. The pain, the soreness, it was his fault. He had hurt her even worse than she could have imagined.
Tears flooded her eyes.
Pain.
Anger.
Hatred.
All of it combined to make her shake. “It’s true,” she said, stepping out from the shadows where she’d been standing.
Reaper whirled around. “Robin, what are you doing there?”
“You sent those men to hurt me?”
“Preacher doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“I just heard everything!” she screamed at him. Bethany started to fuss. She rushed toward her daughter. While Reaper was likely trying to figure out whatever lie would get him out of this, she grabbed her baby and took a step back. The tears already fell thick and fast. She felt sick, alone, lost. This couldn’t be happening to her, and yet it was. There was no getting away from what he’d done and was going to keep on doing. “You sent those men to hurt me.”
“Robin, I had to.”
“You had to get them to beat me up? To rape me? Did you know they were doing that? Did you know they pissed on me and laughed as they did? They shattered my foot, and there are nights I lie awake because the pain is still there. I will never fully recover from what they did to me and it was all you. You did it? How could you do that to me?” she asked.
“Why did you do it?” she sobbed.
“Look at you, Robin. You still have the stench of Preacher on your body. You think I didn’t see what was happening to you? You wanted him back. Having my baby didn’t change anything.”
“This was to punish me for having feelings?”
“No,” Preacher said. “This was so he could be the one to rescue you. Those men were expendable, right? Are they still alive or did you kill them?”
She kept looking at Reaper but she couldn’t believe it. “Do you know how guilty I felt for having