In Their Arms

PROLOGUE

DAWN

His breathing is heavy as he makes his way into my room. Bile rises in the back of my throat when my door snicks shut, the soft sound deafening in the otherwise silence of the house. Something falls to the floor followed by his low drunken laughter.

I grip my blanket tighter to my chest, curling up into a ball. A heavy body lands beside me so I quickly jump away but it's no use. Even when he's shitfaced, he's fast. I cry out but a hand slams down on my mouth as I'm thrown back on my bed.

I kick, claw and slap but he's twice my size and pins me down easily. I bite his hand, earning a sharp growl, then a slap. Gripping my shirt he rips at it with one hand, splitting it around the collar. He's so focused that I'm able to use the flat of my palm to nail him beneath his chin. He rears back, shouting in pain so I raise my knee and slam it into his crotch. I watch as he rolls off my bed, landing in a heap on the floor.

My door flies open and the light comes on to show my mother, her face white as she takes in the scene. I start crying as I crawl over my bed and rush to her side. She wraps me up in a hug as she looks down at my stepfather. Her lower lip is trembling, her hand digging painfully in my bicep.

"Billy, what is this?" Her question breaks through his haze of pain and drunkenness.

"Caroline, why'd you hit me?" He looks at her like she's betrayed him and my heart sinks when she relaxes.

No!

Even drunk, he's smart. Acting like he thought this was their room, when it's on the opposite side of the house, instead of mine. It's a lie. He knows what he was doing but when my mom breaks away from me to go to him, a part of me dies.

I shouldn't be surprised. He's got money, a ton of it, and that money brings financial stability to a woman who's never had it. Popping me out at the ripe age of seventeen, the same age I am now, showed her just how hard life could be. She'll take the flimsy excuse just to keep from going back to working two jobs and living in a shitty apartment.

When she bends down to help him up, bloodstained eyes lock on me and a cruel grin covers his face.

I'll be back for you. He mouths at me over her shoulder as she fusses at him.

"Sweetie, Billy's drunk so don't take his actions to heart." My mom sweeps her gaze over my reddened face and torn shirt, her lips tightening before she pastes on a fake smile. "He thought he was in our room."

"You two look so much alike." Billy purrs, leaning down to nuzzle my mom's neck, making her giggle.

I swallow back as the acidic taste of vomit starts burning up the back of my throat.

It is true though, my mom and I do look nearly identical. We're both smaller, standing at a short five six in height. What we lack lengthwise we make up for in curves. I'm bustier than my mom, something she jokingly but not so jokingly fusses about. Our hips are defined and our legs are long and lean. Black hair, so dark it looks blue sometimes, is curly and untamable at all times. Sea green eyes that match perfectly stare out at the world from both of our faces.

The only difference in our looks is time. I have youthful looks on my side, whereas my mother has laugh and frown lines. She's still beautiful.

I watch them leave together, him whispering in her ear and her giggling like nothing is wrong. I slam my door closed and go to turn the lock only to find my door handle broken. Excess saliva and the burning of stomach acid are my warnings that I'm going to be sick so I charge for my bathroom. I make it just in time to empty my stomach while hot tears pour down my face.