Page 104 of Lilah
My heart falls and I look down at my hands, swallowing the lump in my throat. Are we really going back to the old way?
I hear him stop in front of me and bend down. He grips the sides of my face and tilts my head up to his.
"I can't be your friend when every time I look at you I want to fuck you. I want to touch you in places only I should be allowed to. I want your eyes always on me. I want to kiss you not here," he leans his forehead against mine.
"But here," he runs his thumb over my lip and I shudder.
Frick everything friendly.
"I know you think I'll hurt you. I know you do," he pulls away looking into my eyes, "I've already done it way too many times. And I've got a lot to learn about this but Iwantto learn it fromyou. I need you to straighten me out and help me get my shit together and I promise I can be more than just your friend."
"Grey," I start as soft as a whisper placing my hand on the side of his face.
"I want to fall in love with you," he whispers.
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Thank y'all for reading!
*Not edited*
Word count: 4942
-Ashlyn Montgomery
Chapter 15: Selfish
?Azalea?
"Almost two days Azalea," my fathers voice reaches my ears as soon as I step foot into my room.
My 'safe' place.
"I've been waiting for you. I need 'shine," he glares up at me from his seat on my bed.
I can't do this again.
He sees my hesitance and he rises to his feet coming to stand directly in front of me. My heart pounds in fear of him.
"Fine. You don't want to," he shrugs and I think he's going to let me go. I shouldn't have thought that.
He undoes his belt and my heart falls to my feet.
"Dad please," I beg and it doesn't stop him, "I'll get it!"
Seeing that he's not even thinking about stopping, I turn to go get out of my room and hopefully out of the house. Maybe Grey is still here.
My father grabs my arm and he jerks me back striking my back harshly with his belt. I fall onto one knee as a cry escapes my lips.
I don't count how many times he does it. With each hit, I get weaker and eventually my back is numb to the point where I don't cry out anymore.
At that point, he stops. Without a look at me, he leaves my room.
I'm left on the floor unmoving.
I stay that way for a week. A week of me alone in my room, my door locked, and in constant fear that Dad will come back and do it all over again.
I guess it really is a form of his punishment. Maybe I should just stop being a baby and I should get used to it.
