Home With You Part 2

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Hey guys! Hope y'all are well. I know it's been a while but writer's block is no joke.

Before you read, full disclosure I don't particularly like this chapter. It's probably one of my worst. I feel like I could've written it better but I kind of forgotten how to write so I had to teach myself how to all over again and this was the best I could come up with.

I'd also like to apologise for any and all errors.

Anyway happy reading🌺.

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"Where'd you get this?" he asked with his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed in my direction.

"I found it in the guest room, along with your shrine of Anastasia and something else," I replied snarkily, tilting my head up slightly as Christian briefly closed his eyes and sighed tiredly.

"What's that?" he asked, eyeing the envelope in my lap suspiciously.

"We'll get to this in a moment," I said then pointed to the booklet between us. "I want to know about that right now."

"Fine. But I'll have to start from the beginning and I'll work it in." I pursed my lips in thought then nod my head a few moments later.

Christian cleared his throat then ran his hand through his hair. He had his eyes focused on a spot above my shoulder while he spoke.

"You already know that I didn't have an easy childhood before I was adopted," he said bitterly. "The scars on my body are a testament to that," he chuckled but I could see the pain and the anguish reflected in his eyes.

I set the envelope and booklet on the table and moved closer to him. I tentatively reached out and placed my hand on his knee. Christian tensed at first then covered my hand with his own.

"I don't remember much about it but what I do remember are the beatings I endured at the hands of the crack whore's pimp. If I concentrate I can feel the phantom touch of the belt striking my skin and the hot burning pain of having cigarettes stubbed out on my skin and the smell of burning flesh."

My vision blurred and my stomach churned as my mind processed his words. I could see it all play out in my mind. It made me sick. What kind of monster would do that to a child? I couldn't wrap my head around it.

"I'd hide but he'd always find me." Christian gripped my hand tighter.

I shook my head refusing to believe that his mom would stand by idly and watch her child be abused. His mom must have done something.

"Where was your mom when all this was happening?"

Christian scoffed. "She was always there. High on whatever the pimp had given her. I doubt she knew what day of the week it was. We'd go days without eating," Christian said running his hands through his hair with his free hand.

That would explain his hatred for wasting food.

Christian his eyes met my own albeit reluctantly like he was afraid of what he'd see. At the look on my face the look of apprehension on his face cleared. I looked at him confused. What was he looking for? He shook his head and continued speaking.

"What I went through with the crack whore damaged me. I- I-" he stuttered.

"She never protected me. She just sat there high out of her fucking mind sometimes and watched him beat me. She might as well have abandoned me," he seethed.

"She fucked me up."

"Fifty shades," I said recalling what he had said, what felt like years ago. Christian's smile is brief.

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