Free Wishing Pearl by Nicole O'Dell Page B

her eyes popped wide open. She shot a look up to Olivia’s bedroom window, her face dark with fear. “Olivia. I don’t want to talk about any of this right now. You need to go into the house. Go to your room and lock the door—stay out of sight for the rest of the night.”
    “But …” What was going on? Mom actually seemed scared. Had Charles hurt her, too? Could it be that she knew the truth? If so … how could …? No. Surely Mom would have done something to put an end to it if she’d known.
    “Just do as I say. Right now.” Mom pulled her gaze from the upstairs window and jerked her head toward the house. “Go.”
    Olivia scurried past her, through the front door, and up the stairs as though an unseen ghost was gaining on her. She could feel its evil presence all around her but had no idea where it hovered. She propelled her body toward her room with the force it would require to speed through quicksand and finally reached her doorway.
    She panted as she looked both ways down the hallway. Seeing no one, Olivia stepped inside her room and slipped the chain into the lock. Safe. Olivia slumped back against the door and gushed a big sigh of relief.
    A sinister taunt came from the direction of her bed.
    “Running from someone?”

Chapter 7
    D read fell like a cloak over Olivia’s body. Like a robot, she inched herself around until she faced the right side of her room.
    There he sat, on the edge of her bed, with a lecherous grin on his face. His legs were crossed, and his hands were clasped around his knees. He’d seem relaxed to a stranger, but Olivia saw the white-knuckled grip Charles had on his leg and the twitch that pulled at his right eye and the corner of his mouth.
    Olivia reached behind her head and released the chain lock. Not that Mom would come—she never had before.
    “What do you think I’m going to do, beat you, girl? You think you’re worth my effort?” He snorted and pulled a half-empty bottle of amber liquid from behind his back. He lifted it to his lips and took several long gulps.
    A beating would be a welcome reprieve from his usual repertoire. It didn’t matter. Whatever he did to her, Olivia was done cowering in a corner. She’d stand up to him for once.
    Charles drained his bottle and threw it at the wall, where it shattered, raining millions of glass tears onto Olivia’s floor. He swiped his forearm across his upper lip and shook his head. “No. I don’t care anymore. I’ve given you everything I could think of. Everything your money-hungry mama could think to demand, that is. But I’ll never live up to the saintly image of your dearly departed
father.”
    You’ve got that right, you psycho creep
.
    “So I’ll tell you what. I’m going to leave you alone. In two years, you’ll never have to see me again. Who knows, maybe sooner if I shake my leg until your mom falls off. Which might be much sooner rather than later, since I saw her flirting with that pig outside.” He stumbled toward her and jabbed a crooked finger in her face. “Just stay out of my sight. I don’t want to hear a peep out of you or that ridiculous oboe ever again.” Charles teetered out of the room and down the hallway like a pinball bouncing off the walls.
    Hmm
. Did he mean it? Would he really leave her alone? Doubtful. It would probably be like every other time he made some kind of promise so she’d lower her guard; then he’d strike. He probably only left her alone tonight because he worried Mom might come looking for him. When Olivia had been younger, things with Charles had been much worse for her because she was a scared little girl and he knew it—and loved it. Now, at least he had to stop and wonder what he could get away with. Maybe he figured he’d used up his luck.
    Olivia snatched her purse from where she’d dropped it on the floor and pawed through it like a desperate junkie. Maybe a smoke would settle her nerves, or at least her stomach. She crept to the bathroom, avoiding the