A/N: I feel like I'm posting too much but idk :/ but on other news have you seen my new cover?? I <3 it...
"Did you miss me?" He asked me, his breath smelling of hard liquor. "Never would I ever miss you," I spat walking backwards, away from him.
He held his hand out to touch me. I shoved it away before he could manage to touch my face. "Oh, c'mon, baby. Don't be like that."
"Don't fucking touch me," I raised my voice. I reached the end of the hallway and ran into a dead end.
"Don't," I whispered when he pressed himself against me. "I won't hurt you... if you don't provoke me at least." He tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. He took a handful of my hair into his fist and yanked it to one side. I let out a loud cry.
He started sucking on my neck and all I could do was stay still. With his free hand, he started lifting my shirt up and coping a feel.
He started kissing his way up and stopped when his lips met mine. He immediately shoved his tongue into my mouth; our tongue meshing together. I whimpered, trying to hold back a sob.
He took it the wrong way though.
"You like that?" He growled and lowered his hands. With one hand he undid the button and zipper on my jeans.
He took both hands and slid my pants down. "Please don't," I whispered, a tear falling. "And why the hell not?" He picked me up and took me to my room. He pinned me up against the door.
"Please," I pleaded. "Stop talking," He slapped me. I bit back another sob.
He took my shirt off and started groping my chest.
"Tuck, you're drunk. Please listen t-"
Another slap on my cheek.
He took a deep a breath, his arms trapped me on both sides.
"You make me do this to you, Farrah. And for disobeying me, you'll have to be punished."
He hiked my legs up to hips. In that position he began to grind himself into me whilst making out. I only kissed back because I didn't want to get hurt again.
"Tucker," I spoke softly. He groaned and cupped my ass in his hand.
"Baby, you know we've never gone all of the way." He threw his shirt off to the side.
He toyed with the edge of my panties. "This is the farthest we've ever gotten." He carried me to my bed.
"I just got us enough money to pay off the rent. What's my reward, babydoll?" He straddled me.
"What's the point? You're just going to waste it all on your stupid drugs."
I just couldn't keep my mouth closed.
"Now that's not what I was expecting for saving you and your druggie mother's asses from being homeless." He grabbed my thighs and allowed his nails to dig into my skin. I let out another loud cry. "Just remember, you make me do this to you. If you could just learn to keep your trap shut, this wouldn't happen to you. Now, tell me again: who's fault is it that you get hurt?"
"Mine," I spoke through clenched teeth.
"Smart girl, but I'll still have to punish you."
He began kissing me and feeling on my breasts. I hated it.
I pushed my hips to his, matching his movement. I could feel his erection against my leg.
"You see, you do this to me," he moved my hand to feel his brief-covered dick. "But you're just a tease and never give it to me," he ground into me again.
He pushed my bra over my boobs, and started sucking on my breast; I couldn't help but moan.
"I knew you'd like it, you little whore." He growled. "Who have you let fuck you? Jeremy, the cashier at the grocery store?" He started making assumptions and I hated that he thought I was sleeping around.
"No one," I answered.
"Don't lie to me." He growled.
"I'm yours," I lied. I did what I had to do to stay alive.
"Damn right," he hissed. "I'm sure you've learned something from your whore of a mother. I wish you were like that sometimes; I just want you to let me fuck you, and that's what I plan on doing right now." He took his briefs off. His eyes dark, filled with lust.
"Tucker," my voice was shaky.
"Don't be scared. It won't hurt too much." He tried to pull my panties down my legs, but I stopped him the only way that I could. I knee'd him in the groin.
"You little bitch," he bent over in pain. I scrambled from under him and ran to the door. I rushed to put my pants on, but before I could put shirt on, there was a sharp pain in my shoulder and it only seem to dig deeper and then it slashed downward.
I wailed in pain and fell to my knees. I touched my shoulder gingerly. A warm substance covered my fingers. When I look at my hand, I saw that it was blood. It was numb. I couldn't even feel it.
I saw Tucker leaning over me. "Look at what you made me do!" He cried, sinking down beside me.
He had a large shard of glass in one hand with my blood dripping from it.
"Let's go get you fixed up," he said. He applied pressure to the wound that he made and we drove to the hospital.
When they asked how it had happened, he said I had been attacked. That much was true, but he wasn't going to admit that he had done it. He gave the lady at the desk a nice smile, and she she admitted us.
Of course she would believe him. I hated that he looked like an angel on the outside, but on the inside he couldn't have been more different.
He played the part of an angel for everyone else. He used to be like that for me but those drugs and alcohol took him over.
I left a few hours later with seventeen stitches on my back and an abusive boyfriend by my side.
I knew I would be leaving this hell soon enough though.
When Tucker had gone to the bathroom, I had called a nurse and told her the entire story. I told her to wait three days to alert the authorities, though.
I won't ever forget the day he was arrested. They also found used needles in my mothers handbag, so she was arrested as well.
The lady from social services came and stood by me. "We'll find you a good home." She smiled reassuringly.
I even remember the last thing he told me.
"I'll find you! When I'm out, I'll find you!" He had fought the police of him and was close to hitting me.
"Don't touch me!" I yelled repeatedly, closing my eyes.
"Don't touch me! Don't touch me!"
"DONT TOUCH ME!" I yelled, opening my eyes. There were tears already on my cheeks.
"Farrah, Farrah. It was just a dream..." Justin coaxed me, holding me and kissing my hair. He noticed how shaken up I was and added, "or maybe a nightmare."
A nightmare? Yes.
A "bad dream"? No.
I had lived through the nightmare.
It all came flooding back and I couldn't help but shake from holding in my sobs.
"I'm here. Just relax." He said. I turned and cried into his shoulders.
Oh God, how could I relax?
He'd found me.