Page 168 of Lilah
"You're doing it again," he says and my mouth drops open.
"I'm standing!"
"Quit," his lip curls into a smirk.
I place my booty cheeks on the floor and narrow my eyes at him.
"Goddammit, you keep doing it."
"No, I don't! Do what? I'm sitting! You're crazy," I stand again and his eyes never leave me.
"Fuckin' keep on," he nods.I'm gonna throat-punch him.
"Keep on what? Grey, I'm going to kick you in the face," I warn.
"Do it," he nods, "that won't make you stop though."
"Stop what?!"
"Stop."
"I'm leaving! Have a wonderful night you crackhead," I scold, opening his door and walking out.
~~~
I sink down in my bath slowly, letting the pain of the lashes on my back stiffen my body.
Because I wasn't home yesterday.
I honestly have no clue how I'm going to keep Grey from touching me. Nowadays, he's always touching me, wanting my amazing hugs, or lifting my shirt, feeling my stomach to try and convince me I'm hungry.
I pray that sometime soon dad will get tired of all the alcohol and he'll quit drinking.
Drinking all of the same stuff has to get tiring and old sometime, right?
I soak for a little while just relaxing and trying not to move in any way that would cause my back to hurt.
I wash and carefully step out, draining the tub.
I slip on a big baggy shirt and a pair of cotton shorts.
From twelve to four in the morning, dad plays the tv too loud for me to go to sleep. My only pair of earbuds I left at Grey's place. And my pillows only block out so much.
After I can hardly hold my eyes open for any longer, I eventually drift off into a light sleep.
At exactly three-nineteen in the afternoon, I wake up. My back is sore and the pain has set in even further. It's always worse the second day.
My stomach growls loudly, sounding like a whale's cousin.
I slowly rise out of bed and walk over to my mirror. I carefully take my shirt off and only turn my head to see the damage done to my back.
Long stretches of belt marks are spread sporadically across the surface of my back.
I put on the largest sweatshirt I have and certainly no bra. The worst thing I could do is put a bra on. I throw on a pair of black ripped jeans feeling out of the ordinary today.
And it's pretty rainy so why not?
I put on my furred moccasins because they're comfortable and I don't give a fudge. I pick up my phone a see messages from Grey.
