Secrets

Chapter 11

"So, I'm guessing you guys have a game here?" I question the Orlando girls, as the waiter gives us our food orders.

"Yeah, this weekend on Sunday," Alex replies.

Pinoe asking with a smirk, "So, who will you be rooting for?"

I look between all the players, as they looking expectantly for my answer. "Umm...I'll be Switzerland in this equation," I say with a smile, before taking a bite of my food.

I receive glares from all five girls, as Alex says, "So you don't want Orlando to win?"

"I never said that," I say, pointing my fork at her.

"So you don't want Reign to win?" Allie asks with a smirk, just wanting to get me in trouble.

"Never said that either, and I'm suddenly regretting even agreeing to come get food," I say with a smile.

Ali rolls her eyes, before letting out a dramatic sigh, "Fine, no more soccer talk."

"Well, actually, I heard Jill is going to call everyone soon about the World Cup roster," Pinoe says.

"Nope, I can't be worrying about that right now. I still have my last final tomorrow, and I don't need to be worrying about a call that could quite possibly not becoming," I reply, as I shake my head and cover my ears in an attempt to block out the conversation.

The girls laugh at me, "Fine, no soccer talk," Pinoe says sounding disappointed.

We spend the rest of our meal just catching up on all non-soccer related things before the girls said I have to go home because I have school in the morning. The drive from the diner to my house is short, as we quickly pull into the driveway. It's already 9 pm, so I say a quick goodbye to the girls. I make an excuse of being really tired all of a sudden because I don't want them to come inside the house and see my most likely passed out foster father.

Except that wasn't the case when I walk through the door, it's much worse. Right as I close the door and watch Pinoe's car drive off, I hear his yelling start—and he's very much conscious. "Where the hell have you been?!" he yells. I can immediately tell it's going to be a bad night, but that's what I get for getting the previous night off.

As I turn into the kitchen, I immediately feel his hand at my throat, cutting off my airway. I gasp for breath at his sudden attack, not being able to ready myself for it. There's something different about him tonight, he looks almost emotionless, as he holds my neck tighter. "I said, "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Robert again yells in my face.

He pushes my body against the wall still holding my neck, as my head slams into a picture frame hanging on the wall. I try to say something, but can't with his hold. He loosens it ever so slightly, so I can get out, "I was out with friends."

"WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT COMING HOME ON TIME?!" he slurs, spit flying from his mouth. I can practically taste the whiskey off his breath, as I still can't answer due to his hands around my throat. My face starts to feel fuzzy from lack of blood flow. A sinister smirk grows on his face, as he says, "I don't think you remember."

I feel the first punch connect with my stomach, as all the remaining air is forced out of my lungs. His hand finally drops from my throat, as I instantly start gasping for breath. This effort becomes almost pointless, as his fist hits me again in the stomach. With another blow going into my stomach, one after another, beating against my rib cage. My body, unable to stand any longer from the pain, becomes mush on the floor. This doesn't stop him, as he picks me up by my limp body to continue his assault. Except this time, his punches land against my cheeks and jaw. I try to throw my arms up in defense, but I can't seem to find the energy. The pain between my stomach and face is unbearable, as he drops my body to the floor. Instead of walking away, like he usually does, he continues to kick in my stomach. My entire abdomen starts to go numb, as the familiar taste of blood forms in the back of my throat.