His Mate

XXII

Charlotte

________  ________

"And your done" the tattoo guy say.

"Girl you need a new style" he adds.

"Girl you better get your filthy hands out my precious hair before I break them." I say sternly.

He removes his hands, guiding me out to the front of the store. He compliments his work before going back inside.

"Now we have to go to Tasha's" I groan. I walk into a store changing into my off shoulder crop top, leggings and combat heels. I put on red lipstick exiting the store. "I bet you can't kiss me for a week" Zane says smugly. "Oh, its on! Starting now!" I say sassily. I walk towards Tasha's house knocking on the door. The door creaks open and a woman with brown hair and blue eyes opens the door.

Hold up

"Mom?" I asked. "Charlotte? " She responds.

Tasha steps in front of her "Bitch" she mutters."Whore!" I exclaim walking past her into the house. Tasha looks at me with sadness in her eyes. Now that I look at her she does look like me. I walk over to her whispering "Tasha" the same time she whispers my name.

She pulls me into a hug sobbing. I pull away wiping her tears. She hugs me guiding us into the kitchen. "Charlotte" I hear behind me. I turn around seeing my dad. I runs into his arms hugging him tightly. His embrace makes me feel like when we were younger before he found out what I was. I pulled away from him punching him in the face.

"Why?" I asked.

" We were paid" he said silently. "Oh. You were paid. You were paid to send your daughter to an asylum, to rot so they could you me!" I scream. "Unbelievable!" I scream running outside.

I run towards the swing where we used to play. I remember that time I broke my arm.

"Daddy!Daddy!" A little me squeals. Dad laughs at me pushing the swing higher and higher. I let go feeling the swing break I scream as I hit the ground my arm breaking. I cry out in pain, daddy screaming at me for letting go. "I'm sorry" I whisper. He wipes my tears, hushing me. He picks me up rushing me inside. Popping my arm back into place.

I wipe my tears furiously refusing to let myself be seem like this. But no matter what I will always be broken. I will always be that broken girl, that never had a normal life, that was used, beaten, traumatized.

I punch the tree, pure hate and anger radiating off me. I can feel the rawness of my fingers as I slide down on my knees. I slammed my head against the wet ground trying to knock away all the memories, the memories of sadness.

I can still remember that they where we lost her. Jasmine. In that fire, I was to blame, they called me a murderer, a backstabbing whore, and that I would never fit it never be normal. They were right.

Zane embrace me in his warmth and I sob into his shirt. His lips meet mine in hopes of making me forget what had just happened. He pulls away pulling me out of the rain and inside. He whispers sweet nothings in my ear and I fall asleep in his embrace.