Look how well You take this C*ck (Bad Men Possessing Good Girls #2)

12. Ellie

CHAPTER 12

Ellie

“A re you mad?” I whisper to Damon, glancing back to where Lars works on his laptop at the kitchen island while we’re on the sofa watching a movie.

“About what?” Damon looks genuinely perplexed.

“Me and your dad?”

Damon and Jaime are the only real friends I’ve had through this storm, and I’d hate to mess things up. Especially with Jaime’s parents no longer allowing her to have nothing to do with me right now.

“You know I pushed him to pursue you, right?” Shocked, I slowly shake my head. “He didn’t think you’d want anything to do with his old ass.”

“I heard that,” Lars grumbles without looking up at us.

“Whatever, old man,” Damon snarks back.

“Not too old to kick your ass, boy.” I love their banter.

Damon rolls his eyes. “My point is, I’ll never call you Mom, but I’ll be thrilled to have you in my family.”

“Mom?” I whisper in mock horror.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll have you knocked up soon enough that you’ll be a mom this time next year.” I blink slowly, staring at Lars, who has now glanced up to give me a playful wink.

“TMI, Dad,” Damon groans, dropping dramatically onto the floor and covering his face with a pillow.

“You’re the ones engaged in the conversation; I was just providing some helpful commentary.” Lars returns to his work like he hasn’t just dropped this bomb in front of his son.

Before either of us can respond, both mine and Damon’s phones start ringing at the same time, which is weird, but as I get a look at mine, the blood drains from my face as I grow lightheaded and feel like throwing up.

There, in vivid color, is an image of my naked back in the shower, scars from years of abuse on display for what appears like the entire world to see.

“Ellie?” Damon’s hesitant voice is gentle as he sits up next to me. He’s blurry because of the tears swimming in my eyes, and I can’t seem to find my voice. “Is this real?” I can only offer a slight nod as I stare down at my secret.

“What?” Lars’ fierce voice breaks the fog, and I hide my phone. Damon, however, offers his as his dad approaches.

“Jesus.” The disgust in his tone sends me into a panic. “Who the fuck would send this out?”

I speak clearly. “Carly.”

When I came home last weekend, I thought someone had opened the bathroom door, but I couldn’t prove it, so I never said anything.

“What the hell for?” Lars bellows as he gets on the phone with someone.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse.

“Ellie?” I hear Damon’s voice, but it sounds like he’s speaking through a tunnel. I can’t focus on the words, only the sounds, as I drop back into the arm of the couch, staring up at the ceiling, wondering if this is how the rest of my life will go.

The daughter of a serial killer.

Abused by the only parent I have left.

Tormented by ignorant bullies who have no idea what it’s like to walk in my shoes.

And the man I love looking at me like I’m a broken China doll.

Closing my eyes, I allow my mind to drift until I don’t hear anything at all, and I succumb to the loss of consciousness so I don’t have to deal with the world shattering around me.

* * *

No, no, no, not again.

Waking up with a fuzzy mind, I’m bogged down and feeling heavy yet weightless. I know this all too well. It’s been a reoccurring nightmare for years now, and just like the many other times, I wish I wouldn’t have awoken.

Sitting up in bed, I shove the covers off as my body aches with new trauma. I can feel the lashes on my back. The new open wounds that will leave me with more scars.

I hear him downstairs, clattering around in the kitchen. Likely making breakfast in an effort to apologize for hurting me last night. It’s not enough. It hasn’t been for a long time, but it’s the only way to keep the peace so there are more extended periods in between the abuse.

After getting dressed, I quietly make my way to the kitchen. Sliding onto a chair at the two-seater table, I wait for him to speak first. It has to go his way. His words. His excuses. His false narrative about how I did something wrong once again. My disobedience this time? Failing to remind him I would be studying at the library last night.

“Good morning, Ellie. Did you sleep well?” He glances over his shoulder to spear me with his cold eyes.

“Yes. Did you?” We’re just going in circles. It’s the same cycle every time he loses his temper, and I don’t know how much longer I can take it.

“Very. There’s something refreshing about a quiet night that leaves me sedate.”

Quiet? My whimpering was quiet? I wanted to scream and cry and beg him to stop, but the past has taught me it’ll only make it worse.

“Do you need help?” I offer, my skin crawling with the idea of being so close to him.

“Nah, almost finished,” he replies, sounding distracted. “I’ll be out of town for a couple of days. I’d like it if you just went to school and came home.”

“There’s a basketball game on Wednesday I’m supposed to keep score for.” My voice trembles, and I want to shrink when he spears me with a glare. “I’ll get someone else to do it,” I rush to say.

He sighs. “No, you made a commitment; it’s important to honor those. Home straight after.”

“Of course.” The rest of the morning passes in silence as we eat and then head out for our separate days.

By the time lunch approaches, my back is on fire, and no less than four teachers have asked me if I’m alright.

I could have spoken up then.

Saved myself months of pain.

Saved a few women.

Met Lars sooner.