Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
He releases me, shoving me slightly. “You think I’m going to let my girlfriend go and pay for her own food? I’m not some monster, Charlotte.”
Liar.
You’re the biggest monster I know.
“You’re going to come with me?”
He smirks. “Nah, you can just stay here with me where you belong. Here. Eat this.” His grin is wolfish as he holds out a pill.
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
“Since fucking when?” He storms up to me, his face twisting cruelly.
“We need to talk,” I squeak out.
Time pauses. Seconds linger in the air between us, quivering, begging to move forward. When he strikes, time speeds up again. His grip on my wrist is strong as he drags me to my car. I stumble over my own feet trying to keep up.
“You’re hurting me,” I murmur, tears flooding my eyes.
“I tried to give you something for the pain,” he snarls. “But you’re too fucking good for that now. Does this mean you’re too good for me too?”
“Ryan, stop,” I plead.
He doesn’t stop. Just drags me along, growing more and more furious. He flings open the door, shoving me into the seat. Then he rounds the vehicle, dropping into the driver’s seat. He buckles in and peels out. I’ve barely got my belt buckled when he turns a corner sharply.
“Slow down,” I hiss. “If my car gets stuck in a ditch, Dad will kill me.”
“Fuck your dad.”
“Ryan, please…”
“What the fuck is your deal, Char? Why are you acting this way?”
My hands shake as I fret over what I need to tell him. A baby. We’re going to have a baby. I can’t help but feel hopeful and happy. Like maybe a baby will make him cut out all the drugs and treat me better. It has to. This baby is something we can love together.
He speeds along down the road, knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel. “Fucking answer me!” He turns his head, glowering at me. “Are you breaking up with me? You can’t do that. I won’t allow it.”
“Calm down,” I whimper. “Slow down. I’m not breaking up with you.” I chew on my bottom lip as a tear streaks down my cheek. “I’m…Ryan, I’m pregnant.”
He tenses.
Calm before the storm.
And then he detonates.
“WHO’S THE FUCKING FATHER?!”
I recoil at his screamed words. “W-What? You!”
He strikes a hand toward me, grabbing a handful of my hair. I shriek when he pulls me toward him, his eyes glowing with rage and his breath smelling of liquor. His mouth opens to speak but then we slam hard into something.
Black.
Black.
Black.
Everything hurts.
Pain.
Oh my God.
So much pain.
“Char, babe,” Ryan grunts out. “I got you.”
I’m being dragged away from my car, the heels of my bare feet scraping across the asphalt. Oh my God. My car. It’s mangled beyond recognition. Everything hurts and my mind is foggy.
“Oww,” I whine. “It hurts.”
“You’re fine,” he croons. “You’re fine. We’re fine. My dad will be here soon. Everything’s going to be all right.”
I start to cry.
Why is he being so nice now?
He’s a cruel, mean bastard.
The last thing I remember is him screaming at me, my hair tangled in his fist. Now he’s stroking my hair and promising me the world.
“Owww.” Tears roll out when another flash of pain slices across my midsection. “It hurts.”
“Ssh,” he says, his teeth chattering. “I have something to help.” His shaking hand appears in front of my face. “Take this.”
I turn my head. “I can’t. It won’t be good for the b—owww!”
The acrid taste of the pill makes me gag. He pushes it back and pinches my nose, forcing me to swallow it. As soon as it’s down, I start to cry harder. He strokes my hair, trying to calm me.
“W-What did we hit?” I ask, shuddering. “Did we hurt someone?”
“That car,” he says, pointing. “You weren’t looking at the road and hit it head-on.”
Bile rises up my esophagus. “I did that?”
I scream.
Over and over again.
My throat hurts from screaming so much.
Someone is shaking me, trying to wake me.
It’s not a nightmare.
It’s a memory.
The man’s voice should scare me, but it doesn’t. It finds me in the darkness. Comforts me. Begs me to tell him what’s wrong. I cling to him, sobbing.
Light.
I squint against the harsh, bright light, staring in confusion at Terrence standing in the doorway, a baseball bat in his hands. He’s not bloody and dying. He’s alive. Oh my God.
“What the fuck?” Terrence bellows.
“I don’t know, man,” Cal tells him. “I think she had a bad nightmare.”
I shake my head, tears slinging from my jaw. “N-No. I remember. Cal, I remember.”
“Remember what, Charlie girl?”
Terrence approaches, sitting on the foot of the bed, a frown on his poor, broken face. I reach for his hand. He tentatively takes it, his eyes flashing to Cal’s in confusion.
“I wasn’t driving,” I whisper.
Silence.
I sit up on my knees, holding the blanket to my naked chest, so I can look Terrence in the eyes. Cal’s hand strokes down my bare spine, comforting me.