Less than Perfect, S. J. Evans [classic literature books txt] 📗

tears choking any clarity in her voice away.
“He did, Skylar,” He used one hand to stroke the side of her face, “Of course, he had no idea who I was, he only knew that he needed someone to watch over you both and I was there at the time. He was a selfish man, really; always wanting to have his dirty work done by someone else when he could have just confronted it. If only someone could have taught him the facts of life back then; maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation right now.” The coolness in his voice was tainted with a dark hint of anger, a sound so bitter it left a horrible distaste in Skye’s mouth.
She wanted to slap Johnny—no, she wanted to kill

her father; after all, it was all because of him that Johnny had ever found her and Leah. Even more, it was all because of him that she was even living a life cocked full of lies and secrets, a tragedy seemingly just as bad as death itself in her own mind. Still, everything that she suffers through seems worth trying through, no matter how bad it can get.
She choked on the tears caught in her throat, threatening to release sobs that would weaken her. She needed a lot more strength, more space, more—something

. Her concentration was lost in a sea of confusion and anger, torn between the bitter truths. “You’re saying that my father, who left before I was even born, came back five years later to find us again? You’re saying that he screwed things up, but are you forgetting how much you have screwed up, too? I may not know him, but if he wanted those pictures for himself then why didn’t he just take them himself? It doesn’t add up, Johnny; nothing you say ever adds up.” She spoke the words quietly, feeling her heart sink a little.
She wanted to believe in her father, in Derik, somehow and by some incredible strength; but with the ties that started to unwind before her, she didn’t think she could anymore. Derik had hurt them, not physically as Johnny has hurt Skye, but emotionally—the hardest way to get over.
Johnny wasn’t happy with her words, taken aback with a harsh anger that was written all over his face, but he still stayed calm, holding back his anger with such strength and causality he seemed different. “Naïve, little Princess.” He muttered, shaking his head and chuckling a little too uncomfortably. “Skylar, he wasn’t able to take them himself because he knew that he would get caught. He was married and knew that it would be dangerous to be seen around his ex and her daughter, people would get the wrong idea.” Suddenly and without warning, he pushed on Skye’s shoulders, pinning her against the bed as he leaned his mouth next to her ear.
He continued when he saw that she wasn’t objecting or asking any questions, only staring to the side with a frown, “As far as those pictures, I’m sure you’re curious as to why I have them instead of him.” He phrased it almost as a question, pausing as his hot breath sent chills down her spine. She wanted to know why, though, that much was true; but she didn’t respond or nod, knowing that he wasn’t really asking her. “Derik thinks you’re dead, he doesn’t even know that I have them. He doesn’t know you’re alive, Princess,” he rolled the words into her ears, his whispers shaky.
She gasped, hating herself the moment it happened, and bit her tongue to hold back a sob. Her lips quivered, eyes stung, and she could barely accept the answer he had just given her. It pained and surprised her, shocking her body into a bitter charge of hatred.
Turning to Johnny, she glared at him, screaming from the inside. She hated him, truly hated him. She had never hated anyone before, not entirely; but, Johnny, he deserved the hatred. To her, he was nothing but a menace. He was just someone she needed to escape from, no matter how badly he could treat her in the process. “I can’t believe you—you—how could you Johnny? How could you tell him I’m dead?” She screamed. Her voice was shaky and unsteady.
He smiled and looked at her, having already brought his head up before she screamed at him. He took a hand and played with her hair for a moment, his large fingers flouncing the ends. “Easy: I wanted you and Leah to myself. He didn’t deserve to see those pictures, he was a bad man, so I told him that you had died in an accident and he believed me, barely fighting it.”
She was appalled, literally sick because anger and sadness had clenched so hard in her stomach. Derik

, she spoke his name in her head, tears burning the back of her eyelids. He thinks his daughter—me—is dead. Now I’ll never know him,

she thought in defeat, coming to the wall in the road to finding her father—her real

father, the one that had left her and Leah.
Something lit up in her mind, clear as day and real. Derik only left because he was scared, afraid of raising a daughter under the circumstances, one of which being, he never gave Leah a chance to object to what happened that night. He had messed everything up when he had used her, all of his chances at a normal life. He was selfish and just wanted out. She knew that Leah had wanted that too, only, she was the one having the baby girl.
“Johnny, you’re wrong about him,” she said, building enough courage to look deep into Johnny’s icy eyes.
“Oh?” He asked thoughtfully, laughing under his breath, “And how is that?” His hand was back on her shoulder, painfully pinning her down.
She fought the urge to yelp in pain, knowing that she was strong enough to let it not bother her. Catching her breath as her heart rate sped up, she knotted her hands into the comforter. “He’s not the bad man, you are.” She didn’t know why she was saying it, she knew that once the words were out Johnny could do whatever he wanted or willed to do, but the words still left her lips. “You’ve done so many things to me, so many things to Leah, maybe she’s blinded by your façade, but I’m not. If you want the secrets you’re hiding to stay secret, then you’re going to have to stay away from me; otherwise, I spill everything.” She said grudgingly, swallowing a lump of fear caught in her throat. Had she just warned Johnny? She couldn’t believe it.
Johnny was taken aback, the shock tenfold on his face, and he stared at her as if he was trying to figure out what had just happened. Swiftly, he lowered himself on her, his face mere inches from hers as his body squeezed the breath out of her. He laughed viciously, the venom in even his laughter creeping its way eerily into her ears. He brushed a finger across her cheek, practically purring. “Was that a threat, Princess?” His cold voice sang, chilling her bones.
She kept eye contact, trying to hide her fear, even though she knew he could sense it and maybe even feel it. They were so close to each other, closer than she ever wanted to be with the likes of him. “If that’s what you want to make it as, then yes. It was a threat.” She hissed, glad that even though her body was shutting down she could still defend herself by appearing brave against him.
“I don’t think you’re in the position to be the one making threats, Skylar.” He informed her. He sounded more like his normal self again, upset. His hands slid down her face, down to her neck, and stopped, pressing the fingers between the skin and bone.
She didn’t cry out, didn’t scream, only shut her eyes and choked back the tears. She didn’t want to let Johnny have that kind of power over her anymore; instead, she wanted to be the strong one, the girl who saved herself. Only, she knew that wasn’t as easy to find as she hoped.
His other hand—the one that had been at her shoulder—traveled down her arm and grabbed a hold of her chest right where he had cut her the night before. He knew he was hurting her; but he fed off of that pain and misery, suffocating and terrorizing her with it. He loved it, the satisfaction of tormenting her and keeping her under his control, and he knew that he could make it continue.
Pushing hard on her chest and neck, he kept his devilish eyes on her. She shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his body, flailing and screaming on the inside. She wanted so badly to cry out, the pain and humiliation strongly enveloping her. “If you want to make threats with me, then you better be prepared for a whole lot of misfortune. I wouldn’t want to see what happened with Leah years ago to happen to you now…in a different way, of course.” He growled, the anger vivid in his ragged breath. He crushed her then, pushing his lips against hers sickly as his body slammed into hers.
Pain fired across her wounds as his body pressed down on hers. She screamed around his lips, trying to pull away as quickly as possible; but he was quicker, and his hands were suddenly at the sides of her face, forcing her to kiss him. She was disgusted, ashamed, and utterly furious about it. She pushed on him, squirming from underneath him, and cried out, the screams muffled by his lips.
Finally, he broke away from her lips, pulling himself away from her. His chest was heaving, for reasons Skye was terrified of, and he looked excruciatingly satisfied. His lips tipped into a smirk at the corners of his mouth, and he made a sound she could only guess was laughter.
She was in absolute shock, breathing heavy from her panic, as she stared at him, her eyes wide and fearful. She felt absolutely sick to her stomach, disgusted with the guiltiness and horror of it all. She pushed herself back, so quickly and far that she almost fell off the side of the bed. “Johnny,” she breathed, trying to tell him off or something, but it only came out choked and fearful. She tried again, “Johnny, don’t

touch me.” She trembled as she watched him scoot a little closer to her again. She spun herself off of the bed instinctively, putting her hands in front of her to ward him off, the pain numbed by her apprehension.
He smiled at her, back to his normal disturbing self; only this time, he had crossed the line kissing her. He didn’t look sorry or even close to it, he only looked satisfied and as if he desired more. “Skylar, I told you not to tell me what to do, or not do, in this situation. You’re so beautiful, come here,” he said venomously, reaching his arm out as he moved towards her.
She jumped back, looking from him to the door and back. She deliberated on whether she felt confident enough to make it there or not, deciding that she had no other choice. She took a quick breath, lunged