Page 1 of Hard Limits

PROLOGUE

ARACELY

“You fucking, bitch!”

I screamed as the plates were slammed against the tile, pieces of ceramic flew across the room. I turned around, the pots still hot on the stove, and looked over at the burly man seated at the head of the table. The murderous look in his eyes told me I might not survive this night.

He pushed the chair back, the sound of the screech of the wood on the hard wood floor broke through the heavy silence. I screamed as he came at me, holding up my hands as he grabbed at me, yanking my hair back and shoving me against the stove. Pots rattled, and I yelled out as my hand flew back onto the hot stove to steady myself. Tears filled my eyes as he grabbed me by the neck.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice, bitch. Did you think I wouldn’t know you were trying to poison me?”

I shook my head, trembling in fright. “I don’t understand,” I managed to croak out before he back handed me, sending me sprawling onto the floor.

I slid up, grabbing onto my burnt hand, holding onto that pain instead of the one he was inflicting on me. “I told you I was allergic to garlic, and you coated that salmon in garlic, didn’t you?”

I shook my head. “No! No, mine has garlic, but I would never…”

He yanked me up, only to backhand me once again. I whimpered, cowering into a corner. This had been my life for the last three years. I should have known from the beginning that he would be cruel, that he would destroy me. The first time he hit me, I had been eighteen, just out of high school. I didn’t know any better. He’d pulled me out of the dump I was living in, he’d given me food and shelter, in my eyes, he was my savior.

I had no friends, no family, I had been in the foster system my entire life. Being pushed around or beaten every once in a while. This wasn’t anything new for me. But that first time, he’d apologized so profusely that I’d believed him. How stupid of me.

He yanked me up by my shirt and slapped me again, I yelped as blood spurted from my mouth. He’d ripped my lip open once again. He flung me up against the refrigerator and I slid down, limp and numb from all the beatings he’d given me throughout the years. I prayed maybe this would be the last. That he’d kill me once and for all.

He crouched beside me and I barely blinked as I stared down at his boots. My vision blurred, and I knew my left eye was already swollen and sealing shut. Blood poured down my chin and my body trembled of its own accord.

“Fucking weak, bitch! I’m gonna make you eat every ounce of this fucking food,” he lifted the salmon that had been thrown on the floor and shoved it into my mouth. I screamed as shards of the plate came with it. Over and over he slammed it into my mouth, slapping me as he did. Forcing me to chew on it. At one point I whimpered as a shard of glass cut my tongue open.

He laughed at me then, as blood poured out of my mouth. The most diabolical laugh I’d ever heard. “That’s so you learn that I’m smarter than you! That you’re a piece of shit that doesn’t deserve what I have to offer.”

He slammed my head back against the refrigerator and grimaced at me in disgust. “Now get the fuck up and clean this shit up!”

As I went to get up, his foot came out and kicked me in the gut. I collapsed onto the floor, the air ripped out of me as I struggled for a breath.

“Worthless, cunt.” He stepped over me, and relief spilled into me as he finally left me alone.

Picking myself up, I faltered, gripping onto the edge of the counter in order to lift myself up. I went to the sink and turned on the warm water. Gently I washed out the shards of food and glass that were in my mouth. Tears were spilling from my eyes as blood continued to twist with the swirling water. My hands shook as I stared down at them. My right hand was red and would probably swell from being pushed up against the hot stove. Drops of blood dripped from the gash in mouth into my palms.

I stared at the crimson drops for a long time, knowing this was it. This was my moment to leave. I had to leave before he killed me. I turned, my back pressed against the sink, and took a long look around the kitchen. Shards of glass everywhere, spurts of blood coated the white tile, chairs toppled, the pots lay in disarray. I was lucky this time. Last time he’d taken a hot pan and slammed it against my head. I’d been in the hospital for a week for that one, the scar still outlined my temple.

My eyes fell on my reflection in the glass cabinet and I gasped. I reached up to my bruised face, my eye was swollen shut, my lip still bled, my white blouse completely soaked in blood, my hair matted and covered in food. I looked like I might collapse at any second. Closing my eyes, I tried to take deep calming breaths. This had to be the last time. I wouldn’t be able to take another beating.

I waited for a long time… until I knew he was dead asleep. He’d drunk himself into a stupor and lay snoring in his favorite shitty recliner. I gathered the few items I had and then remembered the stash of money he kept hidden in the floorboards. He didn’t think I knew about it, but I’d seen him once or twice thinking he was sneaking things past me, he wasn’t. I was smarter than he gave me credit for.

I gently knelt down by his side of the bed, and slowly lifted the loose floorboards… careful not to make any noise. Reaching in, I felt around with my fingertips, there were two large manila envelopes. I dragged them out slowly and quickly checked. Bundled inside were several wads of cash. He liked getting paid in cash when he did odd jobs here and there. I never asked about his jobs, if I did I’d likely get another beating, so I kept my mouth shut but I wasn’t stupid. I knew they were illegal. I shoved the envelopes into my small bag and placed the board back in its place.

I crept down the stairs late that night. It was well past midnight and he was still lying in the chair, his mouth propped open as he snored. I was grateful for the grating sounds, they were loud enough to cover the sound of my movements. I took a few items from the kitchen, some water and a few snacks I had hid in the cupboards. I made my way through the kitchen and out the back door, and I started running. It was only a few blocks to the nearest bus stop and I prayed I’d make it out before he came for me.

I took the city bus to the train station and quickly bought the next ticket out of town. I figured if I travelled upstate, maybe I could find a small, quiet town where I could get lost. Where no one would find me. Taking a seat in the back of the train cart I propped my bag onto my knees and slid down in the chair. I winced as I slid the large black sunglasses off my face, it was probably a horrid sight.

I wasn’t sure what was going to happen to me, but all I knew was that I had enough. I was tired, and at twenty-one I had nothing. Not one person in my life to help me. He’d made sure of that. I had never been allowed out, except when I was with him, and he didn’t have any friends. I wasn’t allowed to question him, the first time I did he’d broken my wrist, all because I asked him why he’d come home so late.

I rummaged through the bag and reached for one of the envelopes. Searching the cart, I made sure no one was close enough to see what I was doing. I took out the money that was inside and counted it. One wad had five thousand dollars and I had four of them. Two in each envelope which equated to twenty thousand dollars.

I shoved the envelopes further back into my bag and bit my lip. My hands started to shake because I knew the consequences that came with stealing from Shane Wyatt. I had to find a place to hide and quick. He’d come after me as soon as he found out and I’d be the first person he’d search for.

But I needed to get away. It was my only way out. He may have destroyed my body, but my soul was mine to save.

CHAPTER ONE

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