The Bad Boys Saw Me Naked. Again

(15)

I'm not even going to try to explain my absence.

Crash course cause it's been a million years:

1. Wendy= Harpers Mom

    Derek= Wendy's new husband

   Drew=Harpers horrible dad

   Quentin=Drew's friend who helped abuse Harper as a kid

   Evan= Harpers ex

   Trent= Evan's Dad, former drug lord who ruled the town

-(Anyone else you need a reminder on, comment here I'll try to answer, but help each other out)

2. Evan left for the army in the last book, and is now back, but not involved with his father's illegal drug business (character development on the way)

3. In the last book, Trent sold the river boys illegal medicine for Will's illness. He also sold Drew and Quentin drugs. D & Q couldn't pay him back, so he made them leave town forever. 

4. Now, they are back because Trent was overthrown as the towns drug lord, and the new gang doesn't care about any of them, so D & Q can come back without fear.

5. Harper and Wendy are going to report them to the police.

6. Alex is not living in the house, they are 'on a break'. 

(I highly suggest you go and read the last two chapters at least like I did)

(Leave any questions about the past storyline here and i will try my best to answer)

Don't give up on me, I'm not dead and am trying my best. All comments annoyed about the slow updates will be kindly ignored x

<><><><>

"I thought you were supposed to be smart, you dumb shit". My Dad sighs, looking at the letter in his hands. I failed a math test, for the first time ever. 

"I'm sorry." My bottom lip trembles. I can't cry. Not in front of Quentin too. He hates me when I cry.

"You can't even pass a fifth grade math test, you know how dumb that makes you?" He continues, grabbing a beer out of the fridge. "Get in the lounge room, now."

He pushes me through the door, and sits on the couch next to Quentin, opening his beer and turning on a football game. I sit at their feet, knowing the drill. Just do what they say. Mom will be home soon, and you can go climb your tree.

"Why did you fail?" Quentin asks. 

"I was up late, I was tired." I explain. He kicks me, hard.

"Who's fault is that?" He asks. Yours.

"Mine." I say. "I'm sorry, I'll try harder".

"And are you going to fail another one?" My Dad grunts. 

"No." I promise. "Never." 

"Do you want me to tell you what's going to happen if you do?" Quentin smirks. Please don't.

"Yes." I say quietly. Don't cry.

"For every answer you get wrong." Quentin chuckles. "I'm going to hit you on the ass, so hard you're going to scream."

"And you're going to take it." Dad finishes. 

The room is silent, the noises of the football game filling my existence.

"Thank Quentin for your punishment." My Dad kicks me, annoyed.

"Thank you Quentin."  I say, breathing hard, holding back my tears. 

He smiles at me, taking the test from my Dad's hands. 

"You got fourteen out of thirty." He says, shaking his head. "How many smacks does that give you?"

"Sixteen." I say, looking down, ashamed. 

"Get upstairs." He growls. "I'll deal with you after the game."

I scramble upstairs, terrified.

From that day on, I vowed to never fail another test again.

<><><><>

"Honey, they're ready for us." I shake myself out of my daydream, looking at her. 

"Are you ok?" She asks, rubbing my arm. "Can you do this?" I look around the waiting room in the police station, feeling a lot of de ja vu. 

We've done this twice already. Both with no results. I remind myself that things are different now, we don't live in the same neighbourhood, we can't be ignored. It's time. 

I nod, and follow her, Derek and Cole down the hallway, into a small office.

"Hi, I'm officer Brooks, this is officer Bradley." A nice looking policewoman says, sitting next to a policeman. 

"We've read through your case." Officer Bradley says. "All of your statements, and accusations. We understand this is difficult for you, but there isn't a lot we can do for you."

No. Not again. Please.

"Excuse me?" Mum says, the anger clear in her voice.

"These men have no prior records, because you haven't reported them before." Officer Brooks explains gently. "Legally, they are allowed in this town."

"We tried to report them years ago, you turned us away." My mom says. 

"The administration made a large mistake by doing that." She admits. "But right now, unless they make a physical or verbal threat against you, we can't do anything. It's your word against theirs, and we need physical evidence." 

"This is ridiculous." Derek yells. 

"The best we can do, is put an order through for a restraining order, and keep a close eye on them." Officer Bradley says. "Until we have physical evidence, then we will do everything we can for you."

"You need evidence?" I scoff, breaking my silence. "All of my bruises have faded. But I remember everything. You want to talk about all their physical and verbal threats? I've got more than threats. How about all the times Quentin used me as an ash tray? Or threw beer bottles at me as target practice?"

"Honey." Mom whispers, already crying.

"Here's a nice piece of evidence for you." I keep going, raising my voice. "How about the time my Dad forgot me in the shops, making me walk seven miles home in the snow, only to find him beating the shit out of my Mom, because she left a window open, and he was cold. I slept in a tree outside my window that night, praying that she wasn't dead."

"Stop." Derek says, looking distressed.

"Here's one more for you!" I yell, standing up. "We came to you, twice, asking for help, because we were in danger! We were covered in bruises, plenty of evidence for you then. We got no help, because we were considered white trash!"

"Harper." Cole sighs.

"I'm done." I shrug, not even crying. I'm numb. "I'll go. I'll be back when I'm covered in evidence. Maybe you'll do something then."

I storm out of that office, down the hallway, and burst out of the building, breathing in fresh air. I look ahead of me, to see Alex staring at me, from the bottom of the town hall steps.

"Harper." He says. "I got your messages, Zane told me where you were."

I frown, and walk past him, to my car. 

"Fuck you."