Summer (Four Seasons #2) by Frankie Rose Read Free Book Online

whimper, the back of my index finger a pressure point for my teeth to sink into. The pain focuses me, leaving me in control as I work to gain hold of my panting. If I’m too loud, he’ll hear me. I feel the burn of tears and force them back. No. Crying leads to whimpering and whimpering is too much, too messy. It’ll call attention to me.  
    I taste blood and realize I’ve bitten my finger too hard. I release it from my mouth and wrap my shirt around it, the sharp sting of the wound helping me to forget my fears for a moment. This has become a way of life. I need to survive it. Fighting against the old man won’t work. He’s too big. Mom’s not here. She never is.  
    I should be outside playing with my friends like all of the other kids in the neighborhood. But I’m not. I can’t. He won’t let me.  
    He’s drunk again. I saw the empty bottle by his chair as I crept by him earlier. He was snoring, and that sometimes means he’ll stay asleep. Maybe tonight’s one of those nights.  
    I shift slightly, the wardrobe I’m hiding in much too small for me, and yet I’ve managed to squeeze myself down into it. I get creative. I never hide in the same place. That would be stupid.
    Time passes.  
      I hear him moving around the bottom floor. So he’s awake. He’s awake. He’s awake.
    “Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Just don’t cry.” I chant, praying I’ll be able to convince myself. Sometimes, if I’m as quiet as a mouse, he doesn’t find me. Mom will be home before too long, and he will go back to sleep. I should tell her. She loves me, she’ll protect me. He’ll kill her, though; he told me he would. ‘I’ll slit the bitch’s throat if you breathe a single goddamn word of this to anyone.’  
    I’ll just hide.  
    “Where are you, you little shit?” His voice booms out into the silence. From the echo it sounds like he’s still downstairs. If I hear the creak of the fourth step on the staircase, then I’ll know he’s heading this way.  
    “Please. Please. Please. Please. Please .” Tears burn at my eyes. I’m too scared to breathe.  
    “Lucas Reid. Get your ass out here and I’ll go easy on you, boy. You have ‘til the count of three and then all bets are off.” He’s screaming now. His anger’s worse than ever. He usually likes to play with both me and Rosa together, but my little sister’s friend is on vacation. It’s just me. I don’t have to protect her from him, but that also means that I’m alone.
      “ONE.”  
    Something heavy and metallic crashes into a wall downstairs, making me jump. I whimper, screwing my eyes shut, clamping my fingers over my mouth. I taste blood again—my finger’s bleeding worse than I thought.  
    He’s going to find me. He’s going to find me, and he’s going to tell me to do things. Touch places I shouldn’t touch. My breakfast rises in my throat. Mom made eggs and bacon, my favorite, but now I feel sick. I shouldn’t have eaten.  
    “TWO.”  
    The stairs creak, the fourth step, and my heart beings to race. I can’t help it now. Fear grips hold of me, and I vomit all over my mother’s carefully stacked shoes. I try to be quiet but it’s hard. I can’t catch my breath. Every time I drag air into my lungs, I cough and splutter.
    I can hear my father walking down the hallway, his heavy boots thudding with each step. “I’m going to give you one more chance, you little bastard. Get out here and I’ll not kill you for disobeying me.”
    He will kill me. I’m sure of it. Some things are worse than death, though. I’ve seen them. He’s forced me to do them. My stomach heaves again. I cover my mouth with my hands, as if I can hold back the urge to throw up again, but I can’t.  
    The bedroom door opens.
    “Are you in here, boy? Such a fucking pussy. You’ve done it again, huh? I can smell your rat shit puke from here.” He laughs, but then a weighty silence falls over the room.
      I want to die.
    I wrap my arms around my head,