90 A father's fear.

Somewhere out there, a man was standing in front of a floor to ceiling window. His left hand was in his pocket while his right hand held a glass of whiskey. He scrunched his handsome features that could rival with a Greek God into a frown as he stared absently out the window at the rain. His heart was uneasy because he knew the rain always triggered her trauma without warning.

He really hopes that she is okay and hasn't lost her sanity. Images of him opening the bathroom to see blood stains spilling over the edges of the tub with her laying inside, spiraled and covered from head to toe with blood flashed through his mind.

Shutting his eyes, he tried to block out those images as anxiety eclipsed his thoughts. A murderous glint passed through his eyes once he opened them.

Such a shame his daughter had stopped him from killing that bastard responsible for her plight. He was going to make him pay for every tear that had spilled from his daughter's eyes.