Lake’s head snapped back when she heard a creak on the stairs and she saw Vincent’s face peering out from the hole on the ground.
“I-it’s cool, isn’t it?”
When he fully came up the stairs, he did a three-sixty of the room, his face becoming more horrified and disgusted by the second.
“Lake, look the fuck around you! Is this really your fucking room?”
Her eyes grew wide. “Ye—”
“Grab anything in here that’s fucking important.” He was starting to shake.
“What? Why?”
“Now!” he growled at her.
Lake jumped at his demand and glanced around the dark, sparse room. “T-this is all I-I need.” She put her bag back over her shoulder.
“Fuck’s sake! That’s all that’s important in here?” He shook his head, pointing down the steps. “Just go back down. I don’t want you taking anything from this fucking place, anyway. There’s probably mold and rat shit all over.”
“I don’t understand. Where am I going?” She was on the verge of tears at that point.
Vincent came over and grabbed her hand, taking her to the hole. “You’re fucking leaving, Lake, and you’re not fucking coming back.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
You Better Say Your Prayers, Motherfucker
She went to argue, but his face scared her against it. There was no winning with the animal standing in front of her right then.
Tears fell down her cheeks as she crawled back down the steps, her gut sicker than before, telling her the something terrible was going to take place.
Vincent came down the steps right behind her and looked at the silent tears falling down her face. Reaching for her, he took her face in his hands and wiped the tears away with his thumbs.
“You can’t stay here, baby. I’m sorry.”
Lake closed her eyes, trying to stop the crying. “I can’t leave my mo—”
“She’s no mother to you,” he said as he continued to wipe at the tears. “Can’t you see that? What is she letting John do to you?”
She couldn’t say anything, unable to lie to him any longer. Nor could she argue against him, as she knew everything he said was true.
When he saw defeat in her tortured eyes, he placed a tender kiss on her forehead and took her hand. “Come on.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” John asked, turning the corner with a curious Pam and Ashley.
“She’s fucking leaving, that’s what.” Vincent took a step forward.
John started walking toward them. “No, she ain’t. I don’t know what gives you the right to come in my damn house and act like you fucking own it. Get out of here before I call the cops.”
“Call the fucking cops. Let’s explain why she’s living in an attic. How many bedrooms you got here?” Vincent dropped Lake’s hand and opened the door closest to him, revealing a big room filled with exercise equipment. “Well, here is a perfectly good room she could sleep in.” He stepped forward, giving John a thorough once-over. “I bet you haven’t stepped a fucking foot in this room.”
John’s face contorted, knowing Vincent was right. “Get the fuck out.”
“Not a fucking problem.” Vincent grabbed Lake’s hand and started walking down the hall.
God, please help me.
Lake thought her heart was going to stop at any moment, and she could hardly breathe. She just wanted Vincent out of there before he did anything she could never forgive him for. At that point, she had to leave with him because if she didn’t, Vincent was going to go one of two ways: he would slaughter them in front of her or leave and bring back the entire Caruso mob to do it.
As Lake and Vincent started to pass John, he reached for her. “You are not taking tra—”
Vincent pushed Lake behind him before John could grab her then he slammed John against the wall, pinning him with his arm over his throat. “What the fuck were you going to call her?”
Lake covered her mouth, unable to allow the screams and cries to escape her throat like her mother and Ashley had done.
When John didn’t respond, Vincent pressed his arm harder into his throat, cutting off more of his circulation. “Not once have I fucking heard you address her by name. Now. What. The. Fuck. Were you going to call her?”
“Trailer trash!” John choked out as if he was happy for it to finally be revealed.
When Pam covered her mouth and gasped like she was shocked, Vincent looked over at her. “Don’t you fucking act surprised. Can you even remember the last time he said her name?”
“I didn’t kno—”
“Yes, you did, bitch. You just fucking ignored it and pretended it didn’t happen.”
With those words, she acted as if he had struck her.
Vincent started to cut off more of John’s circulation. “What else have you done to her, motherfucker?”
“Vincent, please!” Lake cried. If he kept going, she was sure John’s head would pop off.
He gave one more squeeze of John’s throat before letting him fall to the floor where he lay, trying to catch his breath.
“If I find out you laid a finger on her, I will come back here and slit your goddamn throat.”
Going up to him, Lake lightly touched his arm, somewhat afraid to touch the rabid animal. “Let’s go. Please, let’s go.”
“I said you’re not going anywhere. You’re mine, you piece of shit,” John snidely said through rough gasps.
Vincent kicked him in the teeth in one swift movement. “You better say your prayers, motherfucker, because the only reason I’m not sending you straight to Hell now is because she’s here. You do not own her, and you will never own her. Lake is mine. She will never see you again. Try and you will find out what happens to fuckers who mess with the Caruso family.”
Clearly satisfied, he grabbed Lake’s shaking hand and went down the hall.
As he passed a horrified Pam and Ashley, he gave them a warning. “That fucking goes for all of you.”
Terrified, she let Vincent take her to his car.
When he got in the driver’s side and started the engine, she was ready to piss herself. She couldn’t see Vincent anymore. In his place was a man she was utterly petrified of. She knew he had a personality problem, but that was the most extreme she had seen him and he had actually admitted he was holding back because of her.