Maid For Beckett Catching The Baseball Legend’s Heart novel Chapter 95

Chapter 95

Chapter 95

Andi-

When I was a kid, I wasn’t scared of the boogeyman or the monsters underneath my bed I wasn’t scared of fictional monsters or even darkness. How can I when I was living under one roof with the real–life monster who tormented me since I could remember?

I only stopped being scared when I turned fifteen. I decided to face the monster. It was a quest for freedom, and I almost ended up dead. But that was the wake up call Mom needed to see that she can fight the monster, like I did. And Mom succeeded. She put the monster in jail, and now that monster was back on our doorstep dressed in a black hooded jacket, dark jeans, and sneakers. His face was hidden beneath the shadow of his trucker cap.

The man standing a few feet away from me was a monster we’ve already defeated, and he looked like he was back for

revenge.

Even with the layers of clothing he had on, I could see how much weight he had lost over the years. His cheekbones jutted sharply beneath his skin, hollowing his face like a bare skull. His beer belly, where he banked all the beers he made Mom buy from her own hard–earned money, the same money that was supposed to feed us, was gone.

The man was now skin and bones, and I don’t feel any remorse that he was in this state. He deserved this and more.

His cap might be sitting low on his head, the visor casting most of his face in shadow, but not his eyes.

Those eyes taunted for years, reminding me of a beast watching its prey, and that hadn’t changed. Blazing blue, sharp. enough to pierce through my facade and make my stomach twist. I have those same eyes, the same color I see every morning in the mirror.

His lips were thin and cracked, dry as if he hadn’t tasted water in days. When they curled into a sneer, I could almost hear his skin cracking.

I didn’t lower the knife. I held it steady, like how I was holding the little inside me from running away from the monster of the past. My fingers tightened around the handle, as if loosening my grip would also give the enemy a chance to overpower me again. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, grounding myself, keeping my shit together.

This is real. He is real. He found us, and he’s not in isolation in prison, like what the prison guard told me.

I have a lot of questions as to why and how he was here, but I don’t have the time to seek answers right now. All that mattered was making him disappear from our lives again.

“Little pest, hitle pest, aren’t you gonna invite me in?” he asked almost fondly, like the ice cream man singing Three Little Pigs He used to sing this and knock on the basement door when I hid there. I’m sure it wasn’t just because he loved singing that nursery rhyme, but to mock me.

I thought I had forgotten, but it turns out I had only put these memories aside, and now this man is sweeping them back into the center of my thoughts, as if they happened yesterday

“What do you want? My voice shook despite my effort to keep it steady. “Why are you here?

I already knew the answer.

He didn’t come to apologize. He didn’t come to reconnect He came to take to terrorize, to strip us of whatever stability we had built and leave us empty–handed, like he always did, until there was nothing lett of us not even i canily

pol

In his world, we were property. Brought into this world to work for him. Tools meant to feed his needs while he lived like king. If we so much as bat an eye at something he said, he would slam his fist into our faces and turn us into panching bigs

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He clicked his tongue and smiled, looking as if my tone offended him. “Is that how you greet your own father?” he cooed. “You didn’t even visit me at my vacation house.”

Vacation? This man was mad. How can he call his jail time a vacation?

He tilted his head to the side, sizing me up. “Have you forgotten who brought you into the world? Who your father is?” He shook his head in disappointment. “You’ve been a very, very bad girl, Andrea.”

The words slid under my skin like poison. He had the nerve to make jokes as if we were friends who hadn’t seen each other in six years. Six peaceful years, and now he ruined it.

I knew he was baiting me. Taunting me so I would break. I knew better than to let him in. But I wasn’t prepared for this. He caught me off guard, and my visit to the county jail only made this meeting worse.

Father… he calls himself that now? What kind of sick joke is this?

The man who made sure I knew I was nothing but a burden. A pest who ruined his life wants me to see him as my father?

White–hot hatred burned through me. “You call yourself my father now?” I spat. “What kind of father starves his child after beating her half to death?”

He laughed.

God, he laughed.

He wanted to see my anger. He wants to get a reaction from me, and I just gave him what he was looking for.

“The father of the year,” he said proudly.

The sound was low and cruel, echoing through the night like a horror movie soundtrack meant to haunt me forever. It crawled into my ears and settled deep in my chest, crushing my heart as he buried his talons in me again.

I couldn’t do this. I need to end this now.

I shifted my stance, tightening my grip on the knife. “Leave us alone,” I said. “I am not the same girl you put into a hospital bed six years ago. I know how to use this knife.”

He tilted his head, amused. Then he smiled wider. “Tough little pest…hmmm, I’m so scared….” Then his eyes scanned the house. “You’ve been doing well. Nice house and you have a job now, a real one where you do stupid computer shit and the best part of that is your billionaire boyfriend who’d give you anything you ask for.” He clapped his hand in front of me, and I jumped to my feet. “That was the life I had always imagined for you, Andrea.”

My blood turned to ice. He knew. He had been watching. But for how long? Do I really want to know? But the realization clawed at my chest. He knew too much, which meant he was planning something, building something

I straightened, shoving the fear down. “You don’t scare me anymore,” I said. “If you come near my family again, that very same boyfriend you’re talking about will make sure you don’t step out of prison until you’re in a casket”

His laugh was softer this time. Mocking “Damn, little pest. I’m so scared of your big bad billionaire boyfrienst he said, then those blue eyes turned icy, and his voice shifted to menacing “But keep in mind that the more scared I become, the more you should watch out for what I would do next.”

“Wh… what?” I gasped, frozen in my spot, knife shaking in my hand as my heart pounded violently.

With another sneer, he turned and walked away, his shadow sinking into the darkness like he was a part of it, like he belonged there.

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As I stared into the shadow where he disappeared, I started to question whether he was real, or he was just a figment of my imagination. A villain in my nightmare that’s haunting me again.

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