AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sir?” I ask, my eyes tightly closed. “Did you notice how happy Ms. Hobbcomb was? I think soon, you’ll be my dad.”
“I noticed,” he replies. “I’m not your dad,mia rosa, but we’ll be family one day.” He lifts my long hair from the back of my neck.
Ms. Johns always says I’m smart for a girl my age… and yet, still, I don’t get it.
We, humans, can never imagine the worst. It’s impossible. Denial is a way of protecting ourselves.
But when the searing, burning pain finally reaches my nerves and the stench of burned flesh reaches my nostrils, I scream. I cry. I don’t fight back because it hurts too much.
But I get it.
As I fall into unconsciousness from the pain, I finally get it.
That I should have wished for Ms. Hobbcomb to take my brothers and me back with her today.
11 years old
“What the fuck, Rose,” Mateo seethes as he grabs a handful of my hair.
“Mi dispiace!” I whimper, my knees wobbling under the strength of his pull. “I thought you weren’t home.” No, stupid answer.
Too late.
He drags me down the stairs with him and I struggle to keep up. I was hanging out with Sam. We were so sure his dad and Mateo were out… A while ago, I had told Sam I preferred my hair down, and he said he did too. He told me it was safe as long as Mateo wasn’t here. And he wasn’t meant to be here today.
Mateo shoves me into his office, and I have to wait for him to let go of my hair to grab the hair tie around my wrist and put it up in a high ponytail. I’m used to doing it at the speed of light now. It’s tight, pulling at my skull, exactly how he loves it.
My hair is done before I even hear the click of the lock. A chill runs down my spine at the known sound.
He grabs the back of my neck, pulling me into his chest, and runs his fingers along the letters he branded on me.
M.B.
Who thought it would be so simple to become Mateo Bianco’s property?
I can feel him relax, releasing a contented sigh when he traces the scars for the third time.
“Don’t make me angry, Rose. I only want to be in a good mood when I see you.”
I nod against his chest, his cologne making me feel sick. It’s so strong, it always makes me nauseous. It smells of roughness and pain. Sam’s cologne smells of giggles and warmth.
He looks down and grabs my chin to make me peer up. I’m taller than the average eleven-year-old, but Mateo is much taller than me.
“You’re so beautiful, princess, you know that?”
I don’t say anything. I know I’m beautiful. He says it all the time.
His hand leaves my chin, and he grabs my upper arm instead. I’m only in a tank top, and his fingers feel warm against my cold skin. He presses harder…tighter…
“Mateo,” I hiss in pain, and he smiles. I don’t try to step away, it only makes it worse.
“A little longer,” he announces.
It’s not just a little longer, it’s also a lot harsher. I can already feel my skin bruising under his grip. I can feel the blood rushing to the spot.
I can’t hold it in. “It hurts,” I whimper. The problem is, I never know if it’ll encourage him or make him stop. He loves hearing I’m hurting. Sometimes it’s so satisfying, it’ll make him stop. Sometimes, he loves it so much he wants more.
“No more,” I say through clenched teeth, but his fingers keep digging into my arm. “Mateo…stop.”
