Shattered Asylum

Chapter 37

Content Warning:

S.A. & Abuse.

This part of the chapter includes sensitive content. If that's not something you're comfortable reading, feel free to skip ahead to the part marked with an asterisk (*). Take care of yourself first.

Daniel shoves me into the bumper of his truck, the cold metal biting into my spine. "You fucking cunt! Forks has turned you into a bitch. We're going to fix that," he growls, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking me toward the door. My scalp burns as I stumble, my balance stolen by his grip.

He shoves me into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind me. Tears flow freely as I rub the sore spot on my head, trying to steady my breathing.

Daniel throws himself into the driver's set, his face twisted in rage, and slams the door hard enough to shake the truck.

Trembling, I fumble with my phone, hitting record as inconspicuously as I can. If I die today, someone will know the truth. I tuck it under my leg, praying he doesn't notice.

"W-where are we going?" I whisper, my voice barely audible over the roar of the engine as he peels out of the school parking lot.

"Shut the hell up!" He snaps, his white-knuckled grip tightening on the steering wheel. The tires screech as he takes a turn too fast, and I frantically try to fasten my seatbelt with shaking hands.

He's driving twenty, maybe thirty miles over the speed limit, the truck jerking wildly as he weaves down the road.

Ten minutes of silence stretch into eternity before he veers onto a dirt road, his foot slamming on the brake once we're far from the main road. The truck jolts to a stop, and I nearly slam my head into the dashboard.

His breathing is harsh, uneven as he stares out the windshield, his jaw clenched. I don't dare move.

"Do you know how long it took me to find you?" He asks, his voice low and eerily calm.

I swallow hard, my hands gripping my stomach in a futile attempt to stop shaking. I don't answer, afraid that anything I say will set him off.

"Six months." He exhales sharply, his lips twisting into a bitter smile. "It took me six fucking months to track you down, and when I did? You were with him."

I flinch as he lets out a dry, humorless laugh, his head turning toward me. His eyes glint with something wild and unhinged, and my pulse pounds in my ears.

"And or course, I couldn't have that," he continues, his voice thick with derision. "So I had to step in. You know, threaten his whole family if he didn't back off."

My stomach drops. A choked gasp escapes my lips, and I clamp a hand over my mouth, tears spilling over.

He cocks his head, studying me like I'm a bug he's debating whether to crush. "Tell me," he murmurs, his tone deceptively soft, "did he fuck you?"

I freeze, unable to answer. My throat feels like it's closing, my chest rising and falling in shallow, panicked breaths.

"Answer me!" He explodes, slamming his fist into the center console. The sound reverberates through the truck, and I flinch violently.

A sob bursts through me, and I shake my head frantically. "N-no," I whisper, my voice barely audible.

His jaw tightens, his nostrils flaring. "Don't lie to me!" He spits, grabbing my wrist in a vice like grip and yanking me toward him. Pain shoots up my arm, and I whimper, trying to pull away.