Taking Tessa Read Free Page A

Stepfather," she corrected, pulling the door the rest of the way open.
    The view was like a sucker punch to my throat.
    She was so much younger than I thought. My eyes crawled up her body. A worn old dress hung too large on her shoulders, her eyes sunken in and skin pale from lack of sunlight.
    Fuck, this was bad.
    "Your stepfather is keeping you here?" I struggled to understand the circumstances.
    She nodded, her eyes darting across the floor and landing at her feet. Her fists twisted together nervously, and on instinct I covered them with my palm. Her fidgeting stopped instantly.
    "I want to help you." I caught her chin with my thumb and forced her emerald eyes to mine. "I'm prepared to take you out of here right now, sweetheart. Just say yes or no. Has your stepfather hurt you?"
    She sucked a lip between her teeth, and tears welled in her eyes. Her face twisted as she crossed her arms over her body and shook her head back and forth, tears finally crashing in rivers down her cheeks. "I don't want to be here anymore."
    "Jesus, that's all I need to hear." I swooped her small form into my arms and turned on my heel, walking straight down the steps and across the street. This girl needed saving, and that asshole needed to burn in Hell for whatever he'd done to her. I planned on taking care of both.

3
    Tessa

    * * *
    I smiled , my cheeks turning up in my sleep as the scent of pancakes and bacon curled around my nostrils. This must be heaven or a very vivid dream. No one had ever made me breakfast before, so it certainly wasn't reality.
    I yawned, digging at my eyes, then stretched my arms above my head and rolled over into the fluffy pillow.
    The fluffy pillow.
    Pancakes.
    Pancakes?
    My eyes shot open and a scream nearly tore from my lungs as my gaze searched the unfamiliar surroundings, the realities of last night came crashing in on me.
    I'd been taken.
    My heart thrummed like a butterfly in my chest as I thought about what to do next. The night had happened in such a blur—one minute my stepfather was hauling me in the door by my hair, the next he was gone and a police officer, not much older than me, was knocking on the door.
    I'd heard Father leave, the unmistakable rattle of his muffler alerting the entire neighborhood to his comings and goings. I'd padded down the stairs in the hopes of finding some leftover spaghetti to fill my rumbling stomach when the two loud knocks had shattered the silence of my prison.
    I'd only stalled for a minute about what to do. Father had instructed me a thousand times to never open the door, but we'd never gotten a knock, like, ever. So I'd never been confronted with the option. Before the stranger could bolt, I'd launched across the room and cracked the door open.
    When the cop's clear blue eyes had landed on mine I'd known I was safe. Like calm washing over me, it felt like I'd stepped into the eye of the storm, and suddenly decisions were mine to make. I tasted freedom, saw it twinkling in his stare, and the only thought that ran through my head was, this is my chance, my opportunity.
    This was it.
    So I'd taken it. Nearly crumpled to the floor in complete relief before he'd gathered me into his massive arms and walked me out of my seclusion and into the light. I'd trembled when he'd locked the seat belt around my waist. Tears had washed down my cheeks in uncontrollable torrents when he'd told me he'd take me to the hospital to be checked over.
    I couldn't be poked and prodded and asked a thousand and one more embarrassing questions. The cop had taken pity when I'd begged him to take me anywhere but there, and finally relented to taking me back to his house. He'd promised we'd talk about it more in the morning, said I'd need to provide a statement, mumbled something about other girls.
    My brain had gone soft by then. He sat me down and gave me a ham and cheese sandwich to calm the sounds of my stomach. His eyes looked haunted and he seemed genuinely interested in my wellbeing. He