Page 3 of Splintered Hearts

No.

No. No. No fucking way!

Scrambling back, I believe it’s some sick trick my mind’s playing on me. How? I had two fucking weeks! I stand up, and the room is dim but not dim enough. Skyler jerks his pants up with fear and confusion in his eyes. “Dad, I—”

Ignoring me, his eyes land on Seth. “Get out.” Not wasting another second, he doesn’t spare me a glance, and runs.

Thanks.

Okay, that’s unfair. He doesn’t owe me a thing. The front door slams, leaving us in silence. What am I going to do? My father’s face is unreadable. Terrifying. “Uh...”

Slowly, he begins to walk toward me, green eyes like my own looking through me. A lot of the features I have are from my mother. My height. My curly brown hair, freckles, and the absolute inability to see without glasses or contacts. My eyes are his, though. “Look, I—”

Pain splinters above my eye.

I choke on air, holding my face, feeling the warmth seep between my fingers. He hits me again. And again. Blood dripsfrom my face onto the carpet. “You are disgusting.” Holding my temple as more hits come, I do everything I can to block them. It’s pointless, but I try. A slap. A punch.

Rolling onto my back, I can’t see out of my right eye, and with the last of my strength, I roll onto my side so I can stand. As I get up onto wobbly hands and knees he kicks me again. My ribs scream. Again and again. I hug my body, trying to protect myself the best I can. Something cracks, and I break a little more inside.

“Ah—” Fisting my hair, he yanks me upright, forcing me to look at him.

“You have five minutes to get out of my house before I kill you.” He throws me toward the stairs, and I barely catch myself from eating the carpet again before scrambling my way up them. Blood and tears make it hard to see.

Adrenaline fuels my movements as I make it to my room. Finding my phone, I pull up an app and request a ride, then grab my suitcase. I stuff in as much clothing as I can fit, and look through my room, thinking of what else I should grab. I opt for my ideas notebook, my reading logs, my e-reader, and then finally theAlice in Wonderlandcollection I’d begun after Mom died. Everything else could be replaced.

“Shit.” I reach under my bed and grab my jar. There has to be nearly three grand in here now. Daddy dearest gave me an allowance in college and I saved most of it for an emergency. He assumes I used it for partying.

Footsteps echo down the hall. Grabbing my bags, I make my way down the back steps and out the staff entrance.

Fresh air stings my face and I’m faintly aware I’m dripping blood onto my shirt. Light blooms in the distance. The car I called comes into view and I take my first real breath of air and try to process exactly what’s happening. I slide into the car, ignoring the alarm in the driver’s eyes, and minding his own business he focuses on peeling out of my driveway. “Uh, Whereto?”

Shit.

Well, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Where could I even go? This is not the time to realize my options are so limited, but I do have one place. Hating to have to do this I say, “Pulglass, but can we swing by a bank?” Grabbing my wallet, I check to ensure my bank card is there. Not like I’d be going back inside that hellscape if I didn’t have to, though—I just need the peace of mind. I’m going to drain what I can before he cancels my card.

“That’s going to be about two hundred dollars.” What the actual living fuck. How do people afford this shit? Okay, it is nearly two hours upstate. I knew it was a drive to Mark’s.

Whatever, I’ll just have to eat the cost, and fucking deal.

“That’s . . . fine.

Nearly two hours and two hundred and twenty dollars later, I’m standing at the end of Mark’s street. He’s going to kill me, isn’t he? Thankfully, my driver had some wet wipes so my face is only a little bit crusty with blood—it stopped bleeding during the ride, but my face still throbs. It’s like breathing glass every time I force my lungs to take in air. A rib or two are definitely fractured.

Thanks Dad. Kisses.

My adrenaline waned during the car ride, so I can feel every single place where my father’s fist and feet connected. I’m so damn tired, but I’m not about to fall asleep in a stranger’s car.

The sleepy neighborhood is quiet. I’m not used to it after the constant noise of the city, but Mark bought his house here after college, to be near Hunter and his family. The silence is strange.

Mark’s house comes into view, and I spot Hunter’s jeep in the driveway. Fuck! I forgot Hunter was moving in this week. Oh, he’s going to kill me. Well, look on the bright side, maybe he’ll finish what my father started. Limping up the steps, I ring thedoorbell and wait.

The door swings open to a very disgruntled and nearly naked Hunter... and wow. Damn. Scrubbing his beard, he shakes his head. He’s an inch or two taller than me and built like a brick wall. Hunter is hot. His brown hair is cropped close to his head and his sleepy brown eyes look less than impressed. Following the dark dusting of hair on his tanned chest all the way down, my eyes widen, looking away. “Nice bulge. I can see why Mark likes you.”

“Jesus Christ, Noah. Do you know what time it is?”

Putting my bags down before my arms fall out of their sockets, I shrug. “No. I just decided to take a lovely stroll and see what Mark was up to. What time is it? Two? Four in the afternoon? Damn, it gets dark quick lately.”

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