Page 13 of Tasting Clementine

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“I’m not your son,” I snarl, but unclip my seat belt and get out.

He poses no risk. His holster is empty. I could take him on with bare hands if I wanted to. I’m fitter, and my mind is sharper. I chose to stay sober after seeing how alcohol and drugs fucked my mom up. Unfortunately, I still have an addiction... and it’s my stepsister. Drugs or alcohol would have been better.

The officer points to the white line painted on the road and orders, “Walk along it in a straight line.”

“Easy.” I do as he asks perfectly. “Happy now?”

“Why don’t I follow you to the house?” he suggests.

My eyebrows knot together in confusion.

“The house?” I question, trying to ascertain why he’s been there before. “You know where my house is?”

“I’ve been visiting for years,” he replies. His eyes twinkle like he’s won the grand lottery prize. “Jack is an old friend. You’re lucky it’s me who pulled you over. Driving you back is no trouble. I’m already going to the party later.”

The harmless grandpa vibes have worn off, and I see him for the twisted sonofabitch he is.

“They’re good parties, right?” I keep my tone friendly and light. “Pretty girls.”

The officer grins. “Like father, like son.”

My fake smile twists into a snarl, and I see red.

I dive at him without hesitation and start throwing punches. I smash my fists into his smug smirk while he thrashes around like a fish gasping for air. I pin my knees on either side of his fat body to stop him from struggling. I’m not a kid anymore. Since that night with Elias, I have trained relentlessly for moments like this. Moments when I’d have to defend myself.

If he went to the parties, this sick pot-bellied fuckwit has put his shriveled cock in Clemmie, and I’d make him fucking pay for it. If he’s been going for years, perhaps he fucked her before she became a woman. He’s partly responsible for why she acts the way she does. He, my father, and the others are all to blame for her spreading her legs to anyone who looks in her direction.

He finally stops resisting as I knock his teeth out, and blood sprays up my arms. He’s lost consciousness, but I don’t stop. I punch until my chest heaves, letting the taste of iron and sweat fuel me.

I’ll keep going until grandpa cop draws his last pathetic breath. I’ll make sure his filthy hands never touch my Clemmie again. I want to take them all out. Every guy who has hurt her deserves to die. When his heart stops, I come out of my trance and stand, resembling a figure from a slasher movie.

I threatened Clemmie and told her I’d leave town, but I couldn’t leave her at the hands of monsters.

Before returning to the mansion, I have to decide what to do with the corpse. I can’t keep her safe from behind the bars of a jail cell. My attack didn’t last more than five minutes, and I’m buzzing from the release of pure unadulterated rage. Adrenaline gives me the extra strength to open the trunk and haul the body inside.

It’s about time I bought a new truck, anyway.

Peacefulness sweeps over me as I get into the car, happy that I’ve taken out another piece of trash. Apart from blood stains on the side of the road, nothing will be left of him soon enough. One of the perks of working in the garage is being responsible for taking cars to the crusher. No one would question me showing up with a vehicle to dispose of tomorrow morning, but right now, I had to get back before the party started. Clemmie may not be ready to leave yet, but I’ll watch over her and wait.

Clemmie is the only reason I haven’t killed Dad already. For whatever twisted reason, she loves him. But as soon as she gives me the green light, I’ll remove him from the equation. I only have to worry about whether she loves him more than me.

CHAPTER6

Clemmie

“Clemmie?”Daddy knocks on my bedroom door and opens it without waiting for an answer. “Are you ready?”

“Ta-dah!” I declare, spinning around like a princess. “What do you think?”

I’m wearing a dress that was a gift from one of his friends. It’s emerald green with a tight-fitting bodice. The skirt is made from thin floaty fabric with slits up the sides, making me feel like a cross between Ariel and an Egyptian goddess. The man who bought it for me likes to purchase expensive things. He’s a local cop—married with a wife and kids. I don’t mind him fucking me. He has to thumb in his tiny marshmallow chub, and he comes in seconds. When he’s not busy with me, he likes being fucked in the ass by Daddy’s special machines.

“You look beautiful.” Daddy beams. His whole face lights up when he smiles, and his approval makes my insides glow. “Are you excited for tonight? We’ll go down together.”

“Of course, Daddy.”

He holds his hand out, and I take it. We make our way to the basement. It’s not a dingy place that stores old boxes; it looks like an underground nightclub. Not that I know what a real nightclub looks like, but I’ve seen them in movies. It has pretty flashing lights, comfortable beds, swings, ropes, and all sorts of games. Our guest list is exclusive, never more than ten people at a time. Sometimes guests bring extra girls and boys to swap and share, but I’m the only regular… and their favorite. Daddy says I should be proud that I’m the one they’re fighting over to fuck.

“You’re not going to disappoint Daddy, are you?” he purrs in my ear, sending goosebumps dancing over the back of my neck and down my spine. “You better be a good girl tonight, Clementine.”


Tags: Holly Bloom Paranormal