Chapter 32

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Rhys

"Holy shit. This is where you guys grew up?" Mike asks, window rolled down and head sticking out as he takes in the trailer park.

It's definitely a sight. There's people walking around hunched over so far they could be licking the ground, others eyeing me with a cigarette and beer in their hands.

"This is where Maeve grew up. I grew up down the street." I exclaim, watching Mikes jaw drop open at how run down some of the trailers are.

His nose scrunches at the smell I've gotten far too used to. "But-how does someone grow up in a place like this? There are literal holes through the roofs of most of these places."

I shrug. "It's all we had. And to Maeve and I, we thought we were living luxury even being able to afford a roof over our heads."

Mike blows out a breath, shaking his head as he continues to look around. "That's so fucking sad. For you guys to live like this and think it was normal. Even okay."

I nod because it is. But when it's all you have, you learn to cherish it. Even if it's a fucked up thing to cherish.

I park Maeve's car outside her Dads trailer, glancing around to see if his neighbours are around.

"Okay. This is it." I put the car in park and hop out.

Mikes eyes widen at the sight of Maeve's home. It's definitely one of the must rotten places in here, the roof starting to cave inwards and the door-well there isn't one.

"Nice place." I hear him mumble.

Glancing back to him, I jolt when I see a car a familiar car parked across us. I squint, thinking it's my mind playing tricks on me but...

No. No. No.

"Fuck!" I shout, now sprinting as fast as I can across the snow and flying up the wooden steps, ignoring the pounding in my chest.

I scramble down the hall, halting to a stop when I see a trail of blood leading to the kitchen.

No. She's fine. She's okay. She'll be just fine.

My legs can barely hold me up as I take the last painful steps towards the kitchen, nearly buckling from under me when I see her Dads back to me, chest heaving.

I don't see Maeve until I take a few more steps forward.

And I almost wish I never did.

"You fucking bastard!" I snarl as I jump her father, burying my fists into his face. "You fucking animal!"

"You little shit. You never did have any manners." Her dad swings back, catching my cheek.

Dodging a punch from him, I rear back, levelling the bastard with a punch to the jaw.

Blood sprays everywhere. Doesn't really matter though. It's already everywhere.

He staggers back, eyes wide like he never thought I had it in me and I take the opportunity to push him backwards, sending him staggering into the table, and dive on top of him.

I don't stop swinging. Not when his nose and jaw break underneath me. Not when Mike screams at me to stop.

"He's not worth it!" Mike shouts but that's the thing. Maeve is worth it.

My fists move so fast I can't even feel them swinging anymore. It's a nice fucking feeling. This sick fucker has been abusing my girl since she was four fucking years old. Since she could barely walk and talk. Since she didn't understand what was going on so she never defended herself against him back then.

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