Haven's Knight (Sample of Published Book)

Chapter 4 - Part 2

Haven

He didn't make a sound when his fist connected with my stomach. Pain exploded where he'd hit me, but I bit down on my lip to stop from crying out. Somehow I remained upright on my feet, but I was leaning against the fridge for support. A grunt was the only sound he made when his fist connected with my right ribcage. I groaned while I clutched the spot he'd just hit. I knew he hadn't broken anything, but it hurt so much. I tried to take a breath and a sharp pain shot through my side.

Two more hits to my other side and I collapsed onto the kitchen floor. As I lay on my side he gave me one more kick to the stomach, and then it was over. He turned and sauntered over to his food, took his plate, and without looking back at me walked out of the kitchen.

I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through the pain. If I lay on the kitchen floor without moving, and breathed in short and shallow breaths, the pain wasn't too bad; but when I tried to move, the pain intensified. I wanted to stay on the floor, but there was always a chance he would come back and hit me again. I couldn't let that happen. I needed to get to my room.

I held my breath as I pulled myself up into a sitting position. It hurt but I leaned with my back against the door of the fridge and took another breath and pulled myself up by the handle of the fridge. I took a moment for the wave of pain to ease before I started shuffling slowly toward the kitchen doorway. The back of Grant's head was visible on the sofa while I continued to shuffle down the hallway to my room.

It felt like forever before I reached the safety of my room. In the darkness, I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally lay down on my bed. I reached for a bottle of painkillers I kept next to my mattress and swallowed a couple of the tablets without water. They wouldn't help that much, but I would do anything to try and ease the pain.

Under my mattress I reached for the photo of my father and me. I held it in my hands while I lay in pain. Physically, I battled the pain, while emotionally I clung to the memories of happiness. No matter what, I had to hold onto the hope that one day I would be free and happy.

I drifted off to sleep only to be woken up with a sharp pain in my side. My hand soothed the injury under my shirt. I bit my lip when I pushed down slightly. It was definitely bruised. I didn't sleep well. I managed to fall asleep again, but every time I moved in my sleep the pain would wake me up. Eventually, it was time to get up.

My rib was still sore, but the rest of my injuries weren't as painful anymore. I held my side when I stood up.

Everything took longer to do because of the pain every little movement caused. It took twice as long to get dressed and I was running late. I had to hurry because I didn't want to miss my bus to school. If I missed my bus, I would be forced to stay home.

By the time I made it onto the bus, I slumped down in the seat and suppressed a groan when I adjusted my aching body. It had been the hit to the rib that was going to take a few days to heal. I was so used to this and my threshold for pain was higher because of it. For most people these injuries would be too severe for them to function, but I could still walk and move around as long as I didn't overdo things.

I promised myself I'd rest for a bit when I got home after school. My forehead leaned against the cool window while I watched the scenery outside.

When I got to school, my stomach grumbled. I hadn't eaten last night and I'd forgotten to eat breakfast, but the grumbling in my tummy was nothing compared to the pain caused by the bruised rib. On my way to my first class a couple of the students bumped into me, and I had to bite down on my lip to stop from crying out in pain.

Even though I had a lot on my mind, and I was in pain, I kept an eye out for Barbie and her sidekicks. I saw them once after my second lesson and they all giggled and laughed while pointing their fingers at me. I put my head down and tried to ignore them but I couldn't help the flush of red caused by embarrassment that crept into my cheeks.

It wasn't like I'd never been bullied at school before. I was the quiet and weird girl who didn't have friends or talk to anyone, so I was singled out to be bullied by the popular kids. Usually it wouldn't last too long before they moved onto their next victim and forgot about me.

This was the first time I was being picked on because of a guy. A guy I didn't want anything to do with. Barbie definitely had issues if she was jealous of me.

It was finally lunchtime. My hunger pains were getting worse because it had been nearly twenty-four hours since the last time I'd eaten, and my bruised rib was still sore and aching. I decided there was no point in trying to avoid Chris because he would find me anyway, so I started walking toward the field.

"Hey," someone called from behind me.

I kept my eyes down and I continued to walk.

"Hey." The person called out louder.

The person was definitely trying to get my attention, but I wasn't interested. A hand grabbed my arm to halt my escape. The unexpected jolt caused a pain to shoot through me. I bit my lip as I turned to see who'd grabbed my wrist and my eyes clashed with the blue eyes of Damien Knight.

I shrunk away from him. It didn't matter that he wasn't Grant. The only time I was touched is when Grant hit me, so anytime someone touched me, my body reacted instinctively, even though I knew not everyone was like Grant. I tried to pull my wrist free but he held on firmly. His eyes narrowed at my reaction to him.

"I'll let go if you promise not to run away again," he told me.

I glanced from his face to where he held me at my wrist and gave him a brief nod. He released me. He hadn't hurt me, but instinctively I rubbed the spot on my wrist where he'd held it. I dropped my arms to my side while I glared at him.

"I just want to talk to you," he said.

I crossed my arms over my chest and waited. I knew there was no point in trying to get away; he would grab my wrist again, and I didn't like to be touched.

"Why did you run away from me yesterday?" he asked. I continued to stare at him, but I remained silent.