Welcome to the Family

58

Warning: the next few chapters include depression and self harm ... also I'm gonna throw in distorted thinking.

Maisie's POV

I felt cold and alone, my heart aching. Mom had done an unforgivable thing, leaving us with him- a monster, but she was still my mother. It was gut wrenching to think that the next time I would see her, she'd be in a wooden box, lifeless.

I swallowed, pinching my wrist hard, trying to stop the pain in my heart. I kept my hand hidden between my clegs, pinching harder and harder with each mile we gained.

Ashton sat in the backseat with me. Sometimes he'd glance over and look at me, cautious. Cameron and Sebastian were in the front seats, my brother driving. We drove in silence, the air thick with sorrow. Milo and Chance drove ahead of us with Jaime, navigating the way to the motel we'd be staying in for a few nights.

I didn't understand why my brothers trusted Jocelyn, but they did. I'll probably never understand some of the things they do.

"Is it snowing?"

"Yes, I believe that is what that white fluff is called," Ashton said and I swatted his arm.

"It's gross."

"We should build a snowman when we get out."

"Or a snowball fight."

"No snowball fights," Cameron said, glancing over his shoulder. "No fooling around. You both need to rest."

Right, because of this stupid concussion. God, they were being so overprotective.

We were driving through Clines Corner, New Mexico. We only had an hour or two away from the motel we were staying for the night.

"Are we there yet?" I asked

"For the sixth time in twenty-two minutes," Jaime said, "no, we are not there yet."

"Can I have my iPad? I'm bored.""

"No," Sebastian said, "How many times have I told you that?"

I shrugged. "Probably the same amount of times I've asked."

"I bet you've had plenty on concussions over the last few years. How many did you get treated properly?" Jaime asked and I looked away from his stare. I picked my thumb nail.

"I can't remember," I fibbed, shrugging. I've had at least three severe over the last three years. Not like I could go into a hospital and get checked out anyway. But in the fights, when it's be knocked out cold in front of hundreds of men who wanted nothing more than to see a helpless girl on the ground? Yeah you take a few punches. I gave more concussions than I took. I had to or else I'd lose the fight.. and losing was much worse than death.

Troy didn't like losing. He made it clear right away.
I stared at my hands, guilt and shame clawing their way into my body, ripping my memories out like nothing. Sometimes, in the cage, I would think of the day my mom suggested to Jaime train Ashton and I.

I had rarely stood up for myself when Royce beat me, his hits so powerful they stunned me into submission. I hated that feeling. Not being able to fight back. I had always wondered why my mother didn't as well, because she adamant we learned self-defence.

"If someone hits you, you hit back twice as hard," she said, cupping my cheek with her hand, her eyes flicking with fierce determination. "Even if you're beaten and hurt, you get back up and fight."