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Light blaringthrough the seams of my eyes has me rubbing my head.What the fuck?I try to stretch out, my body screaming in protest at the movement.
A shudder washes over me as my brain clears of the fog, and I realize I’m lying next to the toilet. I haul my ass up onto shaky legs, trying to get my bearings, my eyes finding it hard to adjust to the light as I see myself in the mirror. I resemble the elephant man; my left eye is swollen shut and the hideous bruises cover the left side of my face, all the way across my jaw and up toward my cheek on my right side. The whole of my neck looks like I have a hand necklace around it from the thick banding. My wrists look like I’ve taken a cheese grater to them, and my ankles look like I’ve been used as a shark’s toothpick.
I turn the shower on, cranking up the setting until steam begins to fill the room before I swipe at the condensation on the mirror. Enough of my face covered so I can only see my eyes, but the reflection that stares back at me is awful. The injured side sticks out like a sore thumb and my other eye looks haunted. I strip quickly, stuffing my bloody clothes into the laundry basket before jumping into the shower, and I hiss as the boiling hot water hits my back, making it feel like its shredding me to the bone. I turn the heat down, sighing in relief as the cool water hits my skin, even my joints rejoice at the comfortable feeling as my muscles try their best to loosen up.
I wash myself and my hair in record time, and my scalp screams as the water makes the already tender skin worse, the feel of my father gripping my hair while he beat me is like phantom fingers over my skin.
“Sam!” His bellow has me nearly slipping in the shower. “You’re going to be late for school, move your fucking ass.”
I scramble to wash away the soap suds, turning off the shower and quickly wrapping a towel around myself as I step out. Thank God I’ve got five days’ worth of uniforms, pressed and ready to go in my walk-in wardrobe all the time. Grabbing clothes off the hanger, I wrap another towel, turban-style, around my head to dry my hair the best I can. I towel off, throwing my clothes on and adjusting the uniform before unwrapping my hair. I grab a hair tie from my desk, twisting my hair up and securing it on top of my head. I don’t bother with make-up, because there is no way in hell I will be able to hide all this.
I grab my satchel off the end of my desk and my leather jacket, pulling it on. I pull the hood up onto my head, trying to pull it forward far enough to hide my face. I run down the stairs, thankful I know this place like the back of my hand, or I would have gone ass over tit and done more damage. My ribs scream in protest at the weight on my shoulder, but I grin and bear it.
“Remember what you agreed to last night,” my sperm donor shouts as I have one foot out of the door. I throw a quick “okay” over my shoulder and head toward my car. I really shouldn’t be driving like this, but I would rather drive than have anyone else take me. It would be awkward as hell because they would ask about my face and I don’t have it in me to answer these types of questions, nobody would believe me anyway. The staff have never said anything, and I know that’s from fear of my father. He runs his household and staff with an iron fist and fear, they never go against his orders to keep out of everything. The teachers on the other hand did, the first time the teacher saw the marks at school, my father was pulled in and a woman came to speak to me, I recited the lie that has been ingrained in me since forever…I fell.
I don’t know how he’s managed to get away with everything he does but after the first few calls, they stopped coming and people don’t ask me anymore where the marks come from. But it’s the other students that have the questions now, not the faculty, and sometimes that’s worse. I know no one will pull me over and I’ve driven to school in this state or worse enough times to know the route backwards.
“Sam?” I whip around so fast; I almost fall over. My eyes connect with horrified ones as I look up to find Dawson, my father’s head of security staring at me. “What happened?”
“I fell,” I lie, trying to tug the hood further onto my forehead, his brows drop into a frown as he stares. “You know how it is, Dawson, see no evil, speak no evil,” I snarl, turning my back to him and heading toward the car. That’s the thing, they all know what happens and give me pitying looks, and that’s what has the anger building.
“If you ever need anything you know where I am,” he says in a whisper, I look over my shoulder to see him eyeing the area like my father or one of his minions are going to jump out at any moment. “I mean it, Sam, if you need anything.”
“I’m okay, Dawson, no need to worry. I survive,” I say opening my car door and climbing in. I drop my bag onto the passenger seat and hit the start button. The engine rumbles to life, I throw it into gear and peel out of the driveway, making sure the hell hole is in my rear-view as soon as possible.
The drive to school is a short one, and I pull into my reserved spot when I arrive. I find Warrick and the boys laughing next to his car and sigh, preparing myself for another fan-fucking-tastic day. As soon as I open my door and climb out, he whistles, beckoning me with a nod. I lift my head enough for him to get a good look at me, and his eyes widen as his face pales. I curl my lip up in disgust as I head off in the opposite direction. He calls my name, but I flip him the bird over my shoulder. I’m definitely going to get shit for that later, but I don’t give a crap. I’m past the point of caring anymore.
I manage to navigate the hallway without bumping into anyone, and make it to my locker. After stuffing my bag inside, I pull out my business studies books, then slam the door with more force than was needed, making the girl two lockers down jump out of her skin. I mumble a sorry and walk off toward my first class. Laughter fills the air as I move between the bodies lining the halls.
“Your disguise isn’t working that well, Shadow.” My blood turns to ice as I feel his presence against my back.
“Fuck off, Kylo, I’m not in the mood for your shit today,” I snap, picking up the pace to try and put some much-needed distance between us. I make it up to the floor my class is on, but whoever has cursed me is having a good laugh right about now because I wasn’t that lucky. He’s hot on my heels and he shouts for me to wait up, but I just put my head down and charge on. Thank God this hallway is quieter than the one below. A hand grabs my shoulder, spinning me, and I wish the ground would open up and swallow me as the hood falls off my head.
“What the fuck?!” he roars, grabbing hold of the tops of my arms. I yelp as pain shoots up them, and tears gather in my eyes. “Shit, Shadow,” he says with wide eyes, releasing his hold of me.
“I fell,” I blurt the words as I see the rage spread across his face and his nostrils begin to flare.
“What the fuck do you take me for?” he says angrily, closing his hands into fists. “You didn’t fucking fall.”
“I did, I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing last night and ended up going down the stairs,” I say as he scrunches his brows in a frown. “Honestly if you saw the death trap that is my staircase, trust me, you would understand.”
“I’ll let you have this lie, Shadow, but I know you’re bullshitting me,” he says with a savage sound. A shudder of excitement washes over me. “But I’m telling you now, baby, if you need me for anything, all you have to do is call.”
“You saying you want to slay my demons for me?” I say with a snort, if only people truly knew who my demons were.
“I’m the worst demon of them all, Shadow, and no one hurts what is mine,” he says roughly.
He drops a kiss onto my lips and takes off down the hall, and I’m left standing here, dread filling me as I watch him push people out of the way.
This is going to hell fast!
5
KYLO
How fucking stupid does she think I am?! I know he had something to do with this and when I get my hands on the fucker, I’m going to remove his spleen with a spoon. I charge through the halls with one thought on my mind, finding the bastard and making him pay. No one should ever be hurt to the extent she is. She didn’t look like herself, and the state of her eye—it’s swollen shut and the bruising stands out from a distance—has my rage exploding.
