Precious Angel (Alpha Province #4)

By: Becca Van
Prologue




Kenzie Howard screamed in agony as another kick slammed into her ribs. Tears blurred her vision and even though she was huddled in a ball trying to protect herself from the agony of another boot to her side, it didn’t help.

She’d done everything for the man currently beating and kicking her as if she was a punching bag, and yet it hadn’t been enough, would never be enough.

“You’re a fucking cunt of a slut just like your mother was.”

She’d come home from working in the supermarket hoping and praying that he would still be out with his buddies or in bed asleep in an alcoholic stupor. She’d been hoping to sneak into the house and creep to her room where she would be safe behind the locked door, but he’d been sitting at the kitchen table drinking and staring at the clock. He’d been drinking more and more and hanging out with bad men.

She had no idea what he was mixed up in, but there was no way she was hanging around anymore. She’d promised her mom on her deathbed to look after her dad, but she couldn’t take another beating, that’s if she survived the current one.

Her father had become an evil monster.

The next kick was so hard something cracked. The searing pain was so excruciating she couldn’t even make a sound. Her arms were up around her head, but they ended up around her ribs as agony ripped into her side. She was in so much pain, she couldn’t even take a breath. Finally, when she was able to draw in a small gasp of air, the pain in her ribs intensified and the tears flowed faster.

“You were supposed to be a fucking boy, bitch.” Her father roared with fury and kicked her again. There was so much hate in his eyes, and yet she’d stupidly done everything she could to win his love. He used to be so different, but her mom’s death had destroyed him. However, he’d hardly ever looked her way and Kenzie began to suspect that he wasn’t her real father. She had none of his features or coloring. In fact, the man her mom had married had black hair and brown eyes. Her mother had been auburn haired with green eyes, and although Kenzie’s nose and eyes were nearly the same shape her mothers had been, they were the only similarities. The more he beat her the more she suspected she was right. Her father always spouted profanities and cursed her deceased mother, too. The first time he’d done that, she’d been so angry she’d trembled with fury. She’d shouted back at him and he’d hit her so hard across the face, her feet had left the floor and she’d slammed into the wall behind her.

She’d put her own life on hold to make sure the house they lived in remained theirs. She’d worked two or more jobs to make ends meet, to pay the rent and the bills and for the food they ate. She’d cooked, cleaned, washed and ironed his clothes, getting no more than four hours sleep, only to get up and start all over again.

But for what?

He’d never once told her he loved her. The day her mother had died had been the day her father turned his hate-filled gaze on her. Her life had been a living hell for the last ten years, but Kenzie had had enough.

If she survived this night, it would be the last time her father ever laid a hand or foot on her.

“If I’d known you were a fucking girl I would never have married your slut of a mother. I’m going to make a lot of money off you. You’re going to pay me back for all the years I’ve had to look at your ugly face,” he yelled so close to her ear, her eardrum reverberated with pain. “I know you’ve been holding out on me, girl. You think I haven’t seen you making cow eyes at that little shit you work with? How many times have you let him fuck you? How many boys have stuck their cocks in your cunt?”

She whimpered when he grabbed a handful of hair and shook her head back and forth like a rabid dog on a killing rampage. The muscles in her neck wrenched, causing her to moan with pain, but when he lifted her to her feet by her hair, she screamed as her tortured ribs protested. She swore she felt the fractured bones move.

A slap landed on her cheek and the afterburn seared into her skin.

“How many, slut?”

Kenzie opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out. He roared with anger, spittle hitting her cheek as he shook her some more. There wasn’t a part of her body that wasn’t bruised or hurting. She had no idea how long he’d been beating her for this time—it could have been minutes, but it felt like hours. Closing her eyes, she tried to remove herself from the torment, the suffering cruelty at the hands of a man who was supposed to love her.

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