Page 55 of The Marine

I think I pull a muscle.

I try not to make a sound because it just makes it worse, but the contrast of my father hurting me and Aidan loving me is becoming so obvious. I’m starting to see just how bad a man my father is.

Love doesn’t look like this.

“Dad, please. Stop!”

“Stop. Stop? Is that what you said to him in the car when he had his hands on you?” He spits and pushes me against the wall.

“Mom!” I cry.

Being cornered is dangerous. It’s late and she is probably asleep, but I know she’ll have heard him yelling.

“Leave your mother out of this.” He slaps me.

Ouch.

My face burns as Mom appears, looking sleepy and as scared as I am. My eyes plead with her silently.

“Gareth. Let her go. Let her go!” she cries.

I’m sobbing as his hand goes around my throat and he pushes me up the wall.

“Your slut of a daughter let that man touch her. Did he have his hands under your skirt, you little fucking slut?”

Boom!

Everything happens at once. The screen door bounces against the door in a metallic grind, and Aidan comes flying inside.

His clenched fist strikes my father on the side of the head as he screams. “Get your fucking hands off her!”

Mom screams and comes flying along the hallway as I begin to crumple to the floor, but not before Aidan catches me.

I clutch at his arms, scrambling to right myself.

“Briar! Fuck. Tell me you’re okay. Breathe, sweetheart.”

I’m gasping for air, my throat burning and aching as I try to nod.

“I. Och. Ay.”

“Jesus Christ. Has he done this before?” Aidan cradles me against him, holding me away enough to watch that I keep breathing.

“Oh, my god he’s unconscious.” Mom cries on the ground beside my father.

“Good.” Aidan growls over his shoulder. “Why didn’t you stop him? He was killing her.”

Oh god. I never wanted him to see any of this. But the truth is, I am not sure if my father was going to stop. I’m still seeing stars from the lack of oxygen.

“You were just fucking standing there!” He keeps yelling as he scoops me up into his arms.

Mom leaps to her feet. “What are you doing?”

“Taking her to a fucking hospital.”

“Dad,” I rasp out, barely able to speak as I stare down at his lifeless body.

Oh, god.

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