|2nd Book in The Devil May Care Series|
They're more alike than they think.
At war with himself, Loki struggles to get his life on track. He struggles with manic depression-in other words, bipolar. He feels alone, trapped in his own mind as he refus...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I hesitate as I stare at the front door of my house.
Something felt off. I knew my dad was going to be upset. I knew he was going to lecture me about ignoring his texts, it's usually what happened when I didn't listen but today felt different and I couldn't understand why. My hands shook against my sides as I moved to unlock the door.
It's quiet when I enter and I suddenly regretted not coming home last night. It isn't until I close the door behind me do I hear my fathers footsteps. I could feel my heart drumming against my chest as he stops a couple of feet behind me. I pause, closing my eyes before turning around. His face was blank, void of any emotion as he stared back at me. "Where is your phone?" He asks, his voice rumbling against the entrance hall.
I swallow thickly, "In my pocket."
His eyes are cold, "Pull it out and open the messages I sent you." He demands.
I feel a shiver run down my spine as I do what I'm told. When I open the messages, he gets a bit closer. "Read them out loud to me." I go to shake my head, refusing but he takes another step closer. "Read them." He repeats, his tone hardening.
I scroll to the first message with trembling hands, "Be home by 6pm and dress appropriately." I read, my voice quiet.
"Keep going." He demands.
I suddenly feel scared at how close he is, "We're having a guest over, don't forget how to act." I gulp, continuing, "Why aren't you answering me?" I keep going, "Where are you?" I read, feeling his anger through the messages and when I'm done reading all the messages, it's quiet for a moment.
"Was I unclear in what I sent?" He asks, tilting his head as if to mock me. I shake my head, "Did you have trouble understanding any of the messages?" I shake my head again, "So, explain to me why you thought it was okay to go against what I said."
I swallow down my fear before shrugging, "Because I felt like it."
That was my first mistake. Or so I thought.
When my words finally sink in, I feel my face being whipped to the side from the impact of his hand. I feel my ears ring at the sharp echo of his slap against my skin. For a moment, the only thing I feel is shock. He just hit me. He's never put his hands on me. He's yelled. He's kicked me out. He's humiliated me. He's degraded me but he's never put his hands on me. I taste something metallic hit my tongue, only to realize my lip is bleeding as I reach up to feel it.
He just..."You just hit me." I breathe, my face burning at the sharp sting. His eyes are cold as he watches me process it, "You just hit me!" I yell, anger swirling throughout my veins.
"Shutup." He hisses, grabbing my jaw in one swift movement. I wince as he applies pressure, "When I tell you to do something, you do it. Do you understand me?" He growls, lowly. I try pushing at his hand when the pain gets unbearable, "Don't tell me you forgot what happened to your mother when she thought she could do whatever she wanted because she felt like it." He reminds me, tightening his grip.
