Chapter 3

Three

Lili

T he next morning the rain hasn't let up. Thunder rolls over the sleeping Chicago skyline. Gray and black sheets of cotton stretch as far as I can see.

I turn and check the doomsday countdown on my wrist. It's only eight in the morning. I don't know what time I fell asleep but the sandpaper in my eyes says I didn't get nearly enough sleep.

Before my feet hit the floor, I replay the events of the previous evening. Using my fingertips, I brush at the tenderness of my lips. I can still feel the punishing kisses and the love bites on my lower lip.

Like everyone else on this rotating ball, when my libido switched on, everything else turned off. All I saw, felt, smelled, and tasted was my stepfather. Every time he moved, his muscles coiled and rippled under my fingers.

And then he made me orgasm.

I bury my fists into the sheets tangled around my body. The rat bastard needs a good fist to the face. Wait. Make that another fist to the face. I already gave him one. I smirk, flexing my fingers. Little old me. I sit up, ready to plan my exit strategy out of this tower of glass when I realize I never made it off of the floor.

Wow. Another reason to want the rat bastard hurting and begging for my mercy. Because of him, I lost all sense of reason and now my ass is numb, my right leg feels like it wants to fall off and…

I push to my knees and finally my feet. I reach for a light switch and cringe at what the burst of white light reveals.

My vanity either has a funhouse mirror or half of my face really looks like the wicked side of Harvey Two-Face. How the hell am I going to force Bastian to take me seriously when I look like a comic book character?

I rub at the creases left behind by my sheet, but now I just look red on top of everything else.

"For crying out loud. When do I get a break?"

I throw my sheet off and go to strip. But it seems I didn't bother with clothes after my encounter last night.

I fall onto the edge of the bed; the sheet discarded beside the dress I wore home for Bastian. So much has gone so wrong in such a short amount of time. I grow quiet for a long moment just sitting there wondering if this is my true purpose in life. To be a pawn in a game I'm not really a part of.

That is when I notice it. A dress drapes over a chair near my bed. I shake my head. Someone came in here while I lay passed out on the floor and left it for me to find.

"Pussies." I bet it was Bastian. He couldn't face me while I was awake, so he waited until I was asleep. Some big ass bad boy mafia man he is.

I hold it up. Any other day I would be giddy with joy at having something so beautiful given to me. Tiny jewels cling to white satin like stars scattered across a white canvas. Every time I turn the dress the light catches on the gems, throwing off sparkles every princess would love to own. I hold it up to my body and give in a little to my fairy-tale fantasies. It's a dress dreams are made of and in my fantasies Bastian isn't the prince of my dreams; he's the king of my world.

My Daddy.

My best friend thinks I'm crazy to want a man more than twice my age, but I don't know. After last night I am thinking she's right. I mean, look at the world of trouble I'm in because of him. But before all this, I saw us together. He makes my pulse race, my heart beat crazy, and my panties wet. He also, once upon a time, made me feel safe.

Maybe I thought he wanted me, too. Especially after our Christmas kiss.

He took me in when my mother abandoned me. He made sure I got into my favorite college. He made sure I had a place to come home to on Christmas break. Two years of feeling like I belonged with him, and now I know he was just priming me for his bigger plan.

Using me as a pawn in his game of power and crime.

My eyes close and I force my fantasies into my mental trash can.

I loved him. Not as a father, but as a daddy. And now I want his head and heart on a silver platter.

I slowly open my eyes again and this time, the tears that want to fall are still there. But they hold at the waterline for once in my life.

Determination to take control back cinches around my spine. I toss the dress aside and don't bother looking at the shoes. I have no intention of wearing either.

"Get yourself pulled together, Lili. The fight is just getting started."

I shower in record time, not bothering to wash my hair. I don't have the time to wrangle the long tresses today. Instead, I pull it back in a French braid. I don't have time to fight with the few strands that fall around my face, so I leave them. Underwear, jeans, and a T-shirt paired with running shoes are my picks for the day.

Dressed, I give a side-eye to the makeup bag and can't help putting on a coat of mascara and some lip balm. Habits are hard to break, and I might as well look good as I flip off my stepfather and tell him he can eat his contract on my way out.

Before that can happen, I need an escape route. My door will not unlock itself and if I wait until noon the whole damn army will be in the living room. I would have better chances trying to scale the side of the building to the ground floor using a roll of duct tape and some super glue.

The dress.

I pull it off the hanger and grab a lighter from my night table. It's one of those electric ones I use for my vanilla and coconut candles so I'm a little iffy it will…

"Oh, there it goes, baby!"

My heart leaps into overdrive at the sight of the first flames.

I time it with the watch the rat bastard gave me for Christmas. Thirty-five seconds later I have a fire large enough to cause damage rumbling to life.

I pull over my metal trash can and drop it inside. The flames are small at first, but holy hell this dress can burn! Especially when I throw on a couple of cotton shirts to help it along. Thank God Bastian is a stickler for keeping the sprinkler system up to date. Smoke curls toward the ceiling. Forty-five seconds later and the man-made heavens rain all over the expensive furniture. It's a good thing I didn't bother with a lot of make-up or primping with a curling iron.

I brush the water out of my eyes. "C'mon."

My attention bounces between my fire and the door. I hear shouts and heavy footfalls.

I rock on the balls of my feet, ready.

Water continues to pour over everything, causing my fire to turn into a smoldering can of smoke.

Bingo!

Louder shouts filter through my locked door, and those footfalls start pounding my way.

"That's right, bastards. C'mon."

I brace myself into a sprinting stance. All I need is five inches. Enough space to get my foot in the door and I can be out of here. Bastian will loathe the day he showed me how to defend myself. I'll make damn sure of it.

Metal clinks. Hard oak bounces off my back wall and a wild set of black eyes laser in on me.

"Bastian," I growl, and I swear to God above the man looks feral and ready to fight. Dark circles beneath his eyes reveal his lack of sleep. I take a little pride in knowing he lost sleep because of his evil deeds against me.

"What the fuck are you doing, woman?" he roars.

Grit and determination make up the force that goes into putting a smile on my face.

I raise a hand and ring an invisible bell. "Ding, ding, Daddy. Time for round two!"

And then I lunge.