My eldest looked up from her book at me. She met my eyes for a moment then they darted down again.Linda glanced at the ceiling before asking, “Did y...u tell James to come downstairs?”“Yeah,” I said, my stomach growling. I knew that tone in my wife's voice. It was a honey-do voice. “I'll go get him.”I hurried to the stairs, taking them fast. I reached my son's door and knocked hard on it. “Stop drawing, son, and come down for breakfast.”“Just finishing up this drawing,” he muttered.“Your girls. "No, no, no," I plead, my entire body shaking with fear and anticipation. Without warning, he flips my light frame onto my stomach and scream knowing what's about to happen. I hear his zipper being undone and make a weak attempt to crawl off the bed. He hauls my hips to meet his and holds both my wrists behind my back in one of his strong hands. Pushing downwards, my head is forced into the pillow. It smells like his shampoo, something musky and manly. I scream loud, a defeated bargaining plea. More

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