Getting Her Back

Chapter 16

Hannah

I was huddled in the corner of my room, praying the lock would hold.

I barely escaped from his grasp before; if he caught me now, I'd be dead.

"OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW YOU LITTLE BRAT!"

My body trembled as I heard him pound on the door.

"I KNOW YOURE IN THERE!"

Tears streamed down my face as I watched the door. It was rattling as he banged and I was worried the old hinges wouldn't last.

The pounding against the door got more fierce and I ran for the window.

The door slammed open just as I was climbing out the window. I was going to jump into the bushes below, but a hand grabbed my hair and dragged me back in, kicking and screaming.

I was thrown to the floor and my dad towered over me.

"I'm sorry," I whimpered upon seeing the look on his face. I'd never seen my dad this angry before.

"Well maybe you should've thought about that before," he said in a dangerously low voice.

My dad reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. My body was shaking so bad. It was like I was out in the snow wearing only a bathing suit.

My dad knelt over me with a smile on his face. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

I squeezed my eyes closed and prayed to whoever was listening that he wouldn't do this. I could take the punches and the kicking, but this was a whole new level.

The knife cut through my shirt and I was bare to the world, left only in my bra. My dad flipped me over and dragged the knife down the length of my spine.

I screamed and screamed as a fire erupted on my skin, but no one heard. No one came to help.

"Please," I begged. "I'll do anything!"

My dad just laughed and kept carving up my skin.

I jolted awake in bed, soaking with sweat. Someone was gripping my shoulders and I instantly scooted back, huddling against the headboard.

"Please, I'm sorry," I whimpered.

"It's just me Hannah," Bradley said, switching on a lamp. His concerned face came into view and the tension left my body, causing me to slump down into the pillows.

A sob escaped me and Bradley pulled me into his arms. He rocked me back and forth, whispering sweet nothings into my ear.

I cried and cried, soaking Bradley's shirt. If he cared, he said nothing.

Finally, I was able to calm down, but Bradley kept me in his arms. "Wanna talk about it?"

I shook my head, but then slowly nodded. I needed to get it out. And Bradley deserved to know who he'd taken in.

"It was a year after," I whispered, taking a shaky breath.

"After what?" Bradley asked when I didn't go on.

"After my mom died."

A lone tear slipped from my eye and Bradley wiped it away.

"It was all my fault." I couldn't help the tears that flooded my eyes now. "I killed her."

"What happened?" Bradley asked. His voice held no disgust or fear like it should've and he kept me in his lap instead of kicking me out of the house.

"It was the last day of eighth grade and my mom was so proud that I'd graduated," I started. "I asked her to go pick up my favorite takeout and she went, even though it was storming hard outside. She got in a car accident. All because I couldn't just eat something we already had."

"That wasn't your fault," Bradley said. "You didn't know that would happen. You couldn't have."

I shook my head. "I took my dad's wife away. I deserve what I got."

Bradley scowled and pulled me closer to him. "Don't you ever say that. Even if it had been your fault—which it wasn't—you didn't deserve the treatment he gave you. No one does."

I didn't know what to say. So instead, I wrapped my arms around Bradley and hugged him. We sat there together, him just holding me, for almost an hour.

"Do you think you can go back to sleep?" He asked me.

"No. But you can go back to your room, I'll be fine." I didn't want to keep him up.

"No, I'll stay. What do you want to do?"

I blushed. "Will you play your guitar?"

"How do you know I play?" Bradley asked, raising a brow.

My cheeks heated even more. "I heard you through the window one night," I mumbled, completely embarrassed.

Bradley chuckled and released me from his hold. He went into his room and came back with his guitar. He settled down next to me in the bed and plucked a few strings.

"Any requests?" He asked me. I shook my head.

Bradley put his hands in their proper places and struck the chords. He played a beautiful melody. It made me feel warm and safe.

Bradley played me a few songs and soon, I felt my eyelids drooping.

Bradley put the guitar down and stood up. Before I could stop myself, I reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Please don't go," I said softly when he looked back at me.

Bradley smiled warmly and squatted down next to the bed.

"I'm just turning the lamp off."

I blushed and Bradley chuckled. He finished his task of turning the lamp off and climbed into bed next to me once the room was encased in darkness. He wrapped his arms around me and held me to him.

I felt safe here in Bradley's arms. Like nothing could touch me.

And at that thought, I drifted off to sleep.