Broken (Sequel to Keeping Secrets)

Chapter 12.

*WARNING- this chapter contains very VERY mature content!*

I'm awaken by the sound of thunder crashing. Lightning flashes through the cracks of the curtains. I reach my hand across to the other side of the bed and frown when my fingers touch the cold sheets. He's not here. I knew he wouldn't be.

My feet paddle across the cold wooden floor as I make my way through the house, making sure he isn't in any other rooms sleeping. The big golden clock that hangs above the stove says three thirty-three. I sigh and make a pot of coffee. I know I won't be able to get anymore sleep, plus this storm is horrible.

Thunder roars again, vibrating the glass inside the windows. I sit at the bay window, looking down upon the quiet city. Our house was too big for the two of us, but too little for five people. The walls were a cream color and the floors were hard wood, which made it easier to clean up the messes, but I've found the blood is the hardest to clean up.

This couch, this table, this house, this isn't what we should be living in. I'm a stripper and he's a drug dealer. We should be living in some shit cottage in a town full of rapists and murderers, but I will admit, we're both very good at our jobs, no matter how bad that sounds.

"Danielle!" I flinch when the front door slams. He's mad and probably drunk off his ass. "Danielle! Where the fuck are you!" His voice carries to me and I choose to ignore him, even though that was the worst thing to do. He stumbles through the door frame, stopping and looking at me with furious eyes. He starts undoing his pants and I know what's coming.

"Norman, please, don't!" I beg as he moves closer and closer to me.

"You're mine. I can do whatever the fuck I want! Now, shut up and undress before I do it myself!" He pulls pants down to his ankles, shaking them off. He was completely naked. I look away and shutter at the thought. I know what he's getting ready to do. I can either give in and let him do it, or I can fight him and make it worse. "Danielle!" He screams in my face, shaking me horridly.

"Please!" He smacks my cheek hard. I wish I could just end my life. I wish I could put a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger. Just end everything for one and for all. 

"Oh, shut up," He laughs, dragging my pajama shorts down my legs and I soon regret not wearing any underwear. "Bend over, whore!" He pins me down backwards on the couch. My backside is free in the air. He smack me hard and I gasp. "Do you like this, Danielle? Huh? You like it when all of the other men do it?" He smack me again and rams into me without any warning. I cry out and squint my eyes together tightly. The pain. The pain is all I can think about. 

"Please!" I scream out in pain as he continues to push into me.

"What's that? Harder? As you wish," He says through gritted teeth. He's deep, so fucking deep, and it hurts so much. "You're a no good, piece of shit, whore. I can't even look at you while I'm fucking you. You. Make. Me. Sick." He hisses. "You're a dirty person. You're fat and you're ugly. No man is ever going to want someone like you! Never!" He pushes deep one last time and then a few soft times, letting me aware that he's finished with this part of my torture.

I crawl to the other side of the room, pressing my back against the wall.

"What did I do? Why are you doing this to me?" I'm sobbing uncontrollably, my heart breaks into a million tiny pieces. I'm never getting over this. 

He reaches into his pocket and throws a piece of paper to me."Who's number is that, Danielle? Huh?" He kicks my side and I groan. "Tell me!"

"I don't know! Someone must have stuck it in my pocket!" I know I can't tell him. I can't tell him I talked to the enemy. "I don't know! I swear!" I cry, holding my side. My front and my backside are throbbing with pain and I can't seem to make it go away.