Best Friend’s Father’s Dark Lessons - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
You are reading Best Friend’s Father’s Dark Lessons, Chapter 9: Chapter 9. Read more chapters of Best Friend’s Father’s Dark Lessons.
Richard Lowell slammed me against the desk with brutal force, his breath hot against my ear.
"Quite the little schemer, aren't you?" His voice dripped with venom. "Did you really think just because Sophia's home, I wouldn't dare touch you? How naïve."
"Please… let me go—" My voice cracked as I shoved weakly against him, my hands shaking.
"Relax, sweetheart." His grip tightened. "Uncle will be gentle this time."
A sharp rip—cold air rushed over my exposed skin as my collar tore open. I squeezed my eyes shut, dread coiling in my stomach.
Then my fingers brushed the vase behind me.
Without thinking, I grabbed it and swung—crack!—right into his forehead.
He staggered back with a curse, and I bolted for the door—only to crash straight into Sophia stepping out of the bathroom.
"Emily?" Her eyes widened. "I was just looking for you!"
"Sophia, help me!" I gasped, clutching her wrist. "Your father, he—"
She yanked her arm free, her expression hardening into something cold.
"Dad already told me everything." Her voice was ice. "How you confessed your feelings, got rejected, and have been holding a grudge. I didn't want to believe it, but here you are—exactly the kind of scheming bitch he warned me about."
She shoved me toward the exit. "Get out of my house. Now."
"Sophia, listen—"
My plea cut off as Richard stumbled into the hallway, blood trickling down his temple.
"It's not what you think," I whispered desperately. "Please—"
"I said get out!"
Humiliation burned through me as I fled.
Back home, I bombarded her phone—texts, calls, voicemails. Nothing.
At school, she had our homeroom teacher move her seat. Every time I tried to approach, she dodged me like I was contagious.
Then the rumors started.
Whispers slithered through the halls—easy, desperate, willing to put out for the right price. Soon, delinquent boys cornered me between classes, their hands roaming as they leered.
"C'mon, give us the friends-and-family discount."
When I refused, they slammed me against the lockers. One yanked at my skirt. Only a teacher's sharp "What's going on here?" stopped them.
But the homeroom teacher just eyed me with disdain. "Why do you think they targeted you and not someone else?" Her lips curled. "A girl should know how to carry herself."
I bit my tongue until I tasted blood, refusing to cry.
Outside the office, the ringleader leaned against the wall, smirking.
"Tattling to teachers?" He unzipped his jeans with a crude thrust of his hips. "Brave move. Just wait—I'll make you beg for it."
As he strutted inside, I caught his greeting: "Hey, Aunt Karen."
So that was why she'd taken his side.
But was I really supposed to just take this lying down?
"Quite the little schemer, aren't you?" His voice dripped with venom. "Did you really think just because Sophia's home, I wouldn't dare touch you? How naïve."
"Please… let me go—" My voice cracked as I shoved weakly against him, my hands shaking.
"Relax, sweetheart." His grip tightened. "Uncle will be gentle this time."
A sharp rip—cold air rushed over my exposed skin as my collar tore open. I squeezed my eyes shut, dread coiling in my stomach.
Then my fingers brushed the vase behind me.
Without thinking, I grabbed it and swung—crack!—right into his forehead.
He staggered back with a curse, and I bolted for the door—only to crash straight into Sophia stepping out of the bathroom.
"Emily?" Her eyes widened. "I was just looking for you!"
"Sophia, help me!" I gasped, clutching her wrist. "Your father, he—"
She yanked her arm free, her expression hardening into something cold.
"Dad already told me everything." Her voice was ice. "How you confessed your feelings, got rejected, and have been holding a grudge. I didn't want to believe it, but here you are—exactly the kind of scheming bitch he warned me about."
She shoved me toward the exit. "Get out of my house. Now."
"Sophia, listen—"
My plea cut off as Richard stumbled into the hallway, blood trickling down his temple.
"It's not what you think," I whispered desperately. "Please—"
"I said get out!"
Humiliation burned through me as I fled.
Back home, I bombarded her phone—texts, calls, voicemails. Nothing.
At school, she had our homeroom teacher move her seat. Every time I tried to approach, she dodged me like I was contagious.
Then the rumors started.
Whispers slithered through the halls—easy, desperate, willing to put out for the right price. Soon, delinquent boys cornered me between classes, their hands roaming as they leered.
"C'mon, give us the friends-and-family discount."
When I refused, they slammed me against the lockers. One yanked at my skirt. Only a teacher's sharp "What's going on here?" stopped them.
But the homeroom teacher just eyed me with disdain. "Why do you think they targeted you and not someone else?" Her lips curled. "A girl should know how to carry herself."
I bit my tongue until I tasted blood, refusing to cry.
Outside the office, the ringleader leaned against the wall, smirking.
"Tattling to teachers?" He unzipped his jeans with a crude thrust of his hips. "Brave move. Just wait—I'll make you beg for it."
As he strutted inside, I caught his greeting: "Hey, Aunt Karen."
So that was why she'd taken his side.
But was I really supposed to just take this lying down?
End of Best Friend’s Father’s Dark Lessons Chapter 9. Continue reading Chapter 10 or return to Best Friend’s Father’s Dark Lessons book page.