Ruby: Black Hawk Gems Book 2 by Rebekah L. Thompson

Author:Rebekah L. Thompson [Thompson, Rebekah L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-07T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Ruby

“No! Please stop!” I cry, trying my best to cover my head. I try so hard to become invisible, but I’m still there. There’s no escape from him.

He leans over me and growls, “You deserve this.” His foot slams into my stomach, making me gasp for air. I curl tighter into a ball, trying to wrap my arms around both my head and my belly at the same time. It’s hard, but I’d rather try than not.

My body lifts off the ground, and I look up at the exact moment my father slams me into the wall. A second later, he throws me into the body-length mirror my mom got me for my birthday. It shatters into a million pieces, like my life, and reflective glass rains down, cutting and slicing me up. The stinging sensations and the smell of iron take over my senses.

He just laughs.

And laughs.

And laughs.

Like a maniac.

Like someone who enjoys inflicting agony and horrors on people.

“Your mother should have never cheated!” He yells, punching me right in the face. My head snaps to the side, the metallic taste of iron swelling in my mouth. Red splatters and drips from my mouth to the floor. This only makes him angrier.

“You little brat!” He growls, grabbing me by my hair. I cry out and claw at his hands. If I could just get away. If I could just make it stop.

“Stop!” He doesn’t stop. He drags me into the kitchen and throws me against the island. The solid marble counter slams into my stomach, making me tumble to the floor, whimpering and gasping for air. “P-please, Dad-”

If I could just make him listen, he would stop. It wasn’t my fault Mom cheated. He’s still supposed to be my dad and love me. If only I could make him understand.

“STOP CALLING ME THAT!! I’M NOT YOUR DAD,” he growls, pulling a pot of water off the stove. My eyes widen and I try to scramble away. “Oh, no, you don’t,” he snarls, grabbing my ankle.

I shriek in pain as the water hits my back. It burns through the clothes, leaving a trail of fire sliding down my back and to my sides.

I scream.

Cry.

Beg.

Nothing helps. Nothing gets rid of the pain. My father laughs like my cries are a minor annoyance, and he continues to pour scalding water on my back. I try to move away, but his feet on my shoulders and legs push down, causing even more pain.

After a minute, he runs out of water. My back burns, and tears fall freely.

I jolt awake, a scream dying in my throat.

The room is dark, but I automatically know I’m not in my room. The dresser by the door is a different color and design. There’s a window by the bed that’s smaller than mine. The covers under me are a little more scratchy than mine.

While wiping tears off my cheek, I realize I’m back in Clarke’s room. I’m not at my house. I’m in the compound.

The burn scars on my back sting, and I rub them to soothe the phantom burning.

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