King of My Scars (The Kingdom #1)

Prologue

Ihad to leave. It was bad this time.

Each time it happened, I stupidly forgave him. I knew it wouldn’t be the last time, and not to my surprise, each time after that it was worse.

I’m not even sure if I felt the physical pain anymore. I was numb, inside and out. A shell of the person I once was.

But this time … this time he had gone too far. I had needed medical attention. His kick to my left side had broken two ribs, one of which had punctured my lung. My kidneys were bruised from his fists slamming into me repeatedly, and my wrist was broken from the impossible angle he had twisted it.

Until now he was careful not to mark my face or anywhere that someone could see. Each time it happened, he whisked me away for a weekend to 'make things okay' and let the bruises fade, and each time he took a little more of my soul.

My mom had her suspicions; I could see it in her eyes, and her gentle probing questions without asking directly for fear of accusing him of something he may not have done.

But she knew.

I wanted to tell her, someone … anyone. It was a lonely burden, an elephant sitting on my chest. He had worn me down so far that I didn’t have an identity. Functioning on a daily basis but not feeling.

I was his.

Nothing more, nothing less.

He was a powerful, well-respected businessman, so no one would ever believe me, and even if they did, he would pay them off and it would all be forgotten.

Initially, I found it unbelievable that money could buy the conscience of a man, but it had become such a familiar occurrence that nothing surprised me anymore.

He had taken me to a private hospital and visited every day, the devoted fiancé. He had cried when he told the nurses how I was attacked in our home by an intruder, and I had cried at my helplessness.

I had ten days in that hospital with no fear and no pressure to conform because he couldn’t do anything to me while I was there.

It was the longest I had been away from him in five years, and it was the best thing that could have happened to me.

Every day my confidence built, and I found a little more of the girl I once was.

Only now, the girl had grown up. Now I was a woman, and I knew what my future held.

The fire in my belly was small, barely a spark, but it was there, and I knew that if I stayed, that tiny glow of hope would be extinguished, and very possibly so could I.

So I did the only thing I could do …

I ran.