**** READ 'ON THE ROCKS' BEFORE 'WITH A TWIST'****
She gave up everything for the freedom of others.
She is their everything.
Need I say more?
Started: 26/5/24
Book cover background photo: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/8514686788211780/
#1 in MAF...
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I haven't left my room in a week.
The sudden crashing down of my trauma has left me with swollen, red eyes and a constant burning in my throat.
The guys have tried their best.
Dawson leaves me trays of food outside the door, three times a day.
Andros sits on the opposite side of the wall, rambling on about random things in an attempt to try get me to talk.
Theo has tried to break the door down a few times but is dragged away each time by the others.
Finally, Atlas...
Well...
Atlas hasn't done anything.
He's gone radio silent.
And I miss him.
I miss them all.
But the extent of my grief over the abuses I've faced means there is a brick wall between me and the men who are trying so hard to love me.
Pushing away the half-finished plate of food, I curl up into a fetal position on the bed, resuming the position I have spent days in.
I try to keep my food down, not wanting to throw up again as a wave of nausea hits me.
Shutting my eyes, I feel tears start to run down my cheeks again as the tortured images of my father scarring my back and taking my innocence haunt my mind. The look on his face as he brutalises my body is scarred into me, even more than the physical marks he left.
I wish I could let them in.
I wish I could reach out to them.
But it's too hard.
I've tried a few times to speak, but the words get caught in my throat. A lump stops me asking for help each time like a subconscious decision that I don't deserve it.
Just as I have nearly cried myself to sleep, the sound of loud, angry footsteps snap me back to reality. They edge closer, like a threat that has me sitting up in a ball against the headboard of the bed.
I scrunch my eyes closed at the exact same time as the door is busted through with a crash. I keep them closed, shaking in fear as thoughts of my drunken dad entering my room fill my mind.
My breathing intensifies as I hear footsteps moving towards me and I try to shrink away, only to be pulled into some large arms.
Atlas.
He pulls me into his lap, settling against the headboard and I cry into his shirt, a new wave of emotions hitting me. He holds me in silence, stroking my hair as I sob. His shirt is soaked but he doesn't care, too busy comforting me.
