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Chapter 1
Tamara
“You’reauseless,weakwhore, you know that, right?” Dad snarls as he lands another kick to my ribs, curling into a ball; I try to make myself even smaller. But he gets another kick in before I can, knocking the wind out of me. I try to suck in a breath, but my ribs hurt like a bitch; I’m sure he’s broken at least two.
My tear-filled eyes search the room. I lock gazes with Mum who remains motionless on the floor across from me, blood running down her face from the gash on her head where Dad hit her with the glass that he’d had in his hand at the start of this outburst.
“Why the fuck couldn’t you just have done what you were told?” Dad screams as he goes to kick me again,
“Boss, we got a problem,” Daniel’s voice halts dad assault.
My body screams as I try moving slowly while Dad is distracted, whispering in the corner with Daniel; I can’t make out what they are saying. I army crawl across the living room floor, glad the laminate flooring helps me slide.
“Get her up and to her room. She needs to be ready in thirty minutes.” Dad seethes at two of his guys entering the room.
Dax gently takes hold of my right arm while some new guy yanks my left,
Ugh, what’s this arsehole's name again?I usually call him new guy or ass face, which seems to suit him better.
“Dixon, ease up, for fucks sake,” Dax hisses at the guy through gritted teeth.
Dixon, that’s it.
He was one of Daniel’s strays that just seemed to appear one day. For whatever fucked up reason, Dad deemed Dixon worthy of a spot within Daniel’s inner circle.
Ass face loosens his grip but only slightly.
My arms burn, but not as much as my ribs; I’m trying fucking hard not to breathe too much because every time I do, my ribs scream. They lead me up to my room, and Dixon shoves me towards the bathroom when we are inside. I almost go flying forward, but thankfully, Dax still has a hold on me.
“Better get cleaned up, princess,” Dixon sneers. “Got some extra special visitors coming to see you today, or so I hear.” The fucker grins maniacally until Dax growls low and threatening.
“What’s he talking about?” I look at Dax, who grimaces at me. He knows something and won’t tell me. “Sorry Tamara, you know I can’t tell you shit,”
My breath hitches. He’s never kept anything from me before.
“Why the fuck are you apologising to her?” Dixon snarls, “She doesn’t need to know anything.”
Dax pins him with a glare, subtly reminding him who’s in charge here, making Dixon take a small step back.
I can’t help the smile creeping across my face. Technically, Dax is third in command; Daniel is dad second.
“Get ready. I’ll be back in twenty minutes for you,” Dax says, practically hauling Dixon out of my room.
Limping towards the bathroom. I barely make it, but I manage to turn on the shower. As it heats up, I sit down and peel off my leggings and underwear before reaching to pull my top off, hissing as my ribs remind me of the pain. Every single inch of my body hurts. Like fuck, Dad has done a number on me this time.
Luckily, Daniel showed up before he killed me.
Turning to look in the mirror, grimacing at the purple bruising forming. I gingerly touch my ribs, wincing with the pain, it hurts to fucking breathe.I need to get out of this damned hell hole before that psychopath kills me.
My face looks like it’s gone ten rounds with a boxer and lost. My nose is covered in dried blood. Bruising is forming under my eye, and my lip is split. I lick my lips, relishing in the sting that it brings. The tangy taste of blood coating my tongue brings tears to my eyes.
Mum.
She tried to intervene and tried to get Dad to stop. But he turned his rage on her, too. Usually, it’s just me who takes the beatings. Mum hides typically in her room when she knows Dad is pissed.
I hated her for it when I was a child. I always ignored her when she cleaned me up, despite her apologising and reassuring me that none of it was my fault. To me, a parent is supposed to love and protect her children, not allow them to be beaten and broken like I was. Dad is whole-heartedly convinced Mum cheated on him before she fell pregnant with me, which is most likely the reason that he chooses to beat the shit out of me regularly. But being the mafia boss he is, he can’t have it known that I may well be another man's child, so he instead puts on a facade for the outside world.
I check the shower temperature, finding it’s the perfect temperature, hobbling in. I close the door behind me. Leaning on the wall for support. Otherwise, I’ll fall over and injure myself further. The water rushes over me, running red as it cleanses my skin. But it can’t wash off the thoughts swirling in my head.
