Chapter 38
“It’s a piece of cake, Summer said with a puzzled face. Was searching for a company address difficult?
“Who’s your dad?” Rhett found chatting with this kiddo pretty amusing.
York was driving, his eyes practically glued to the rearview mirror. Was that their Mr. FitzGerald? He even goofed around with a kid. Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.
“You’re my dad,” Summer seemed convinced that Rhett was her father.
In Summer’s world, everything was always straightforward, never that complicated.
Rhett cracked a smile, totally clueless that he was such a kid magnet. How come he remembered that Eve’s brat would start bawling at the sight of Rhett, as if he’d seen the Bogeyman?
Sure, this little boy was more lovable.
“Can I keep this Superman? I’ll get you a new one. How about that?” Rhett said softly.
Summer pondered for a moment, then adorably nodded. “If you like it, it’s yours, no need to get me a new one.”
“Why?”
“Don’t wanna make you spend money.” Summer knew earning cash was a hard slog. “Uncle Garner works super hard to make money, you must be worn out too.”
Rhett never bothered to correct Summer’s address, and even York was getting a bit fed up, wondering what the heck Rhett was up to. “Kiddo, don’t go calling random dudes Dad, he’s not your pop. Your real dad is something else, and no one knows who he is yet.”
Summer glanced at York and then kept quiet.
“You talk too much, don’t you?” Rhett furrowed his brow.
York didn’t dare to blabber any further.
Summer, with her head down, carefully handed the little toy to Rhett and then whispered in an extremely soft voice, “Daddy, this is for you.”
No one knew how much Summer longed for a father.
In kindergarten, it was always Mom and Dad who played games with their children, but Summer only had his uncle. His mom was locked up, and he had never even seen his dad.
Uncle Garner was busy making money to support him and didn’t have much time to spend
with him.
Summer was always alone, watching the other kids with their parents.
Rhett took the stuffed toy and gave it a look. Garner’s sewing skills were pretty basic. The
10:31
doll was a hot mean and downright noly
It Summer hadst mentioned it was Superman, he wouldn’t have recognized it at all.
Indeed, kids‘ imaginations were something else
At the FitzGerald Mansion
Kust headed to the backyard shed in search of a shovel
The door to the shed closed behind her, and someone locked it from the outside.
Kristin glanced back and got the picture
She was more sensitive than anyone else. It’s just that she had fought back before and had been brutally crushed, so she stopped resisting.
So are you the gulfriend Vincent got for me? A dude in a sloppy black tracksuit was cracking sunflower seeds in the comer and asked.
Kristin stepped back, trying to open the door, but it was locked from the outside.
With a downward gaze, Kristin let out a cynical laugh. It seemed Vincent wouldn’t be satisfied until she was dead.
Back when Kristin was going through dark times, Vincent was a ray of light in her life.
She had given Vincent her only trust, but he pushed her into the abyss, making her see for herself the layers of hell.
“What’s your name?” Kristin tried to calm the man in front of her. She lacked the strength to resist, but she needed to find a way to protect herself.
Tm Kemp Smith, 39 years old, and you?” Kemp seemed intent on forcing himself on Kristin, but she didn’t seem to resist or detest him.
The other women used to scream and run at the sight of Kemp as if he were a madman, but Kristin was actually up for a chat.
I’m Kristin, twenty–six.” Kristin sat down at a safe yet reachable distance, her face undisturbed.
At this distance, she had a chance to escape if danger arose.
But with the shed door locked from the outside, escaping would be tough. She could only try to stall for time and figure out a plan.
During her five years in prison, Kristin learned to protect herself in her way, on top of being passively beaten.
She would time things right. During the guards‘ rounds, she’d provoke the inmates who usually hit her, getting them thrown into solitary. If once didn’t work, she’d do it twice.
Either way, she was gonna get hit…
She’d also sneak the hair of the inmates into the food of those who bullied her, causing them to fight each other.
She seemed to endure everything silently, but was constantly resisting in her own silent way.
For Kristin, hysterical resistance was pointless. And she needed to stay cool, use her head. and learn to use the ploy.
“I heard from a miss named Ruby that you’ve never had a girlfriend, right?” Kristin probed.
“Who? Ruby?” Kemp cracked another peanut and peeled a few bananas.
“Yeah, she said you’ve never found a girlfriend and you’re sick, a nutcase.” Kristin replied, “She also said I’m dirty. Since I’m so filthy, I should be with someone like you.” Kristin smiled at Kemp and pointed to the peanuts in his hand. “I’m a bit hungry, could I have some?”
Kemp paused, no woman had ever been willing to eat something he touched before.