Stolen to Keep - Alexa Riley Page 0,37

has a gunshot wound. It’s a through and through at least, so I know he’ll make it as long as I stop him from bleeding out.

“She is something.” I glance up at the man who’s running his eyes over me. He looks to be about my age with short dark hair and a greasy smile that makes my skin crawl. I stab him a little harder with the next thread of my needle. He lets out a string of curses and I inwardly smile.

“Respect.” My father punches him right in the mouth and I jump back as the man reaches up to cover his face. He rips a few of the stitches in the process and I clench my teeth to keep from saying something. Not because I feel bad for one of my father’s goons but because now it will take me longer.

“Sorry. Ma'am,” he says to me.

“You’re not going to ask me how Will is doing?” My father’s voice is calm like he’s over for tea and not because someone got shot.

I take a step back to where he’s lying on my dining room table. I never used the thing but now I’m really never going to use it. Between long shifts at the hospital and my father randomly popping up, who has the time? Besides, I live alone so who would sit at the table with me?

“I could lose my license over this,” I tell him for the twentieth time and ignore his question. I could care less how Will is. When he left here he was alive.

It was a curse the day my father came into my life. I didn't know about him until a year ago since I was raised by my mom. She spent her whole life working hard to provide for us and I worked hard so that one day I could provide for her. I finally could but then she was gone. The same day I put her into the ground there he was.

My father came to pay his respects and apologized for never being in my life. He said he had no idea my mom had me and my mom had told me that my father was dead. She also told me he wasn't a good man and it was why we never talked about him. We don’t talk ill of the dead, I think were her words. But looking back, I think she just didn't want to talk about her life. At first I was angry with her but now I understand. She didn't want me to look for him and now I see why.

My father is a terrible man and I wish he were dead like my mom told me. Instead the fates took her and left me with him. Now he uses me the way I’m sure he once used her. I can tell this is his way and I’ll be discarded as soon as I’m no longer useful. I think my mom might have been his mistress when she was younger, but I don’t know much about his dirty deeds. But now that he’s in my life I have blood on my hands and I can attest to the things he’s done.

From what I’ve learned she got pregnant and took off, knowing he’d either make her get rid of me or raise me in his world. At the age of eighteen she picked up and ran. I don’t think he saw her as a threat so he didn’t go looking and I’m thankful for that. She built us a life and it was one that was safe and let me pursue my dreams of becoming a doctor. But even after all that I wasn't able to save her.

“No one will ever know,” he scoffs, thinking he’s untouchable. “Will they, Lula?” I shake my head no and get back to stitching this guy up so they both can get the hell out of my house. Now even I need to get out of this house because I know he’s never going to stop.

Fear has taken hold and now I’m worried he’ll follow me or hunt me down and kill me for going against him. All of these things are possible.

I started digging after I found out who he was and turns out he’s just a thug in a suit. But I can't start over after how far I’ve come, and the thought makes me want to cry. I’ve worked so hard to get to this point in my