“What did you find out?” my father barks. “Did you get anything?”

I shake my head. “No, he had nothing in his office, or bedroom, and there was nothing to indicate he is double crossing you. Though him and Carl were having a deep conversation, they stopped quickly when I came in.”

My father’s face darkens. “If that boy is in on it, I’ll gut him ...”

“I don’t think he is, but I think his uncle is trying to get him in on it. As far as I know, Carl is interested in working with you. Very interested. I think his uncle is twisting things to make it seem like he’s on your side, but there is a chance he’s giving Carl the wrong information, possibly to get him to make the mistake and get caught for it.”

My father nods, almost looking impressed. “Very smart man. What else?”

Should I tell him about Ellie? Should I tell him that I found her? If I call the police, I’ll end up dead, probably worse, my father would make sure of it. If my father thinks Carl’s uncle is against him, he might just use Ellie, get her out, use her to get his uncle into trouble, and she might go free. I don’t know how else I’ll get that girl out of there.

I honestly don’t.

“There is something else.”

My father steps forward, curling a hand around my shoulder and squeezing so hard, I wince. “What the fuck have I said about dancing around? You tell me everything I need to fuckin’ know, and you do it quickly.”

My eyes water from the pain, and after a second, he finally lets go. I step back, shoulder throbbing. I hate him. I hate him so much it burns. Right down into the depths of my soul.

“There was a girl,” I say, warily. I’m nervous. I don’t know if I’m about to condemn the girl forever, or set her free. Either way, there is no hope of me getting back into that house again, not even with Carl, and to get into the basement again is zero to none chance. Which means this is my only chance.

My father glances at me, eyes empty, and hard. “What girl?”

“I found a door ... in his bedroom. It went down into a basement. There was a girl in there, she was chained up, and scared, and she said her name was Ellie.”

My father’s eyes flare, and he steps forward so fast I jerk when his hand curls around my shoulder once more. “There was no fuckin’ girl. You understand me?”

Huh?

“Yes, there was ... There was a girl and—”

He raises a fist and hits me so hard I go flying back, slamming into his desk so hard the corner hits my spine and I scream out in agony. I drop to the ground, and my father comes over, crouching down and curling his fist in my hair, jerking me up until I’m screaming in pain. “There is no fucking girl. I ever hear you mention it, I ever hear you say that again, I will put a knife against your throat and slit it. I don’t fuckin’ need you, bitch.”

“Yes, you do,” I spit back, fire and pain ripping through my body. “There was a—”

He hits me so hard my jaw cracks and my screams fill the room. I roll backward, crying in pain, and he walks over, putting his boot to my throat and pushing down so hard I can’t breathe. The pressure is so intense, and for a moment, I see my life flash before me. The pathetic, broken life I’ve been leading because of this man.

This monster.

When I start to see stars and my vision blurs, I know he could do it. He could honestly do it. He’s beaten me so many times I have forgotten the amount, and he’s spat cruel words at me, and he’s done so many awful things. But I never actually thought he could kill me. But when I look up into his eyes now and see the cold ones staring back down at me.

I know he could.

And he will.

Eventually, he will kill me.

I need to get free.

“There was no girl,” I rasp out.

He holds his boot for a second longer, and I’m worried that he’ll leave it there, but eventually, he lifts it off and growls, “Ever mention her name again, I will kill you. I promise you that.”

With that, I crawl out of his office and push to my feet, stumbling down the hall until I can find my purse. I grab my keys, and I walk out of his house. I go to my car, and I drive to the police station. Maybe my father will kill me for this, but the fact of the matter is, he’s going to kill me anyway. I’ve lived in fear for too long. If that’s how I’m going to end, then I’m not going to let him go down easily.

I reach the local station; it’s massive, one of the best in town. I get out of my car and walk into the front doors. The receptionist takes one look at my bloody face and picks up the phone, calling someone. I walk up to the desk, and whisper, “I need your best detective.”

She nods, her mouth wide as she stares at me. “Are you okay?”

“Just get me one. Please. Now.”

I stumble back into the chair, my body in agony, everything inside me broken, including my spirit. I don’t care anymore. If this is how it’s going to end for me, so be it.

I can’t live like this a second longer.

“Miss?”

I look up and see a man in his thirties somewhere, standing in front of me, looking down, his eyes soft. He has brown eyes, the kind you’ll never forget. Warm, and kind, and framed with thick lashes. His hair is dark, and wavy, and thick. Maybe Italian, maybe Maltese? I’m not sure. He’s handsome, and he looks safe.

“Are you a detective?” I whisper.

He nods. “I am.” He extends a hand. “I’m Oliver. How can I help you?”

Oliver.

I don’t hope you can help me.

I hope you can save me.