Never Have I Ever Fallen in Love

Chapter 19

*FLASHBACK*

"Scout!" a slurred voice shouted up the stairs. My head snapped up as I finished putting my hair up in a messy bun. I bit my lip at my reflection and grimaced as it started bleeding. I was going to work my shift at the bar tonight yet my face didn't show it. Despite the make up I had tried to cover the dark ring going around my right eye with, my pale skin shone through, clearly showing the rest of the harsh bruises on my face. Luca had decided to lay into me yesterday and it was really showing now.

"SCOUT!" the voice bellowed again and I sighed at it. I rubbed the blood off of my lip and blinked quickly, getting up from my seat on the floor and throwing the mirror back down to where I was sat. As I started shoving my feet into my boots, I heard the sound of feet hitting the stairs and I willed whoever it was to go away.

"Scout! Get the fuck out here!" 

"What!?" I growled, slamming the door shut after I exited my room. Luca stood in front of me, gripping onto a half empty beer bottle.

"Dixons are down there." he nodded towards the stairs and slumped against the wall.

"So?" I shrugged and scuffed my toe against the door frame. "Got a shift at the bar. I gotta go." I went to dodge around him but stopped when he dropped the beer bottle on the floor.

"So come downstairs. Have a laugh. Have a little." he kicked the beer bottle and it rolled towards the stairs then down them, one by one.

"I have to go..." I tried again and sighed once more as he grabbed my arm. I hurt too much to fight to free myself and I really wasn't up to shouting.

"C'mon! You know how to pour beers..." I snorted and shook my head.

"I'm not loosing my job just so you can..."

His fingers suddenly tightened around my arm and yanked towards him. He put his lips to my ear and breathed heavily.

"You're staying here." he snarled. I screwed my face up at the smell of beer on his breath and I pressed my lips together, pain suddenly searing through them due to where it had started bleeding earlier.

At times like this, I had to make quick decisions.

Do I risk loosing my job but not gain anymore bruises today, or do I loose my only source of income and spend the evening and night getting stared at by Merle and then glaring at the wall when they all eventually pass out?

It's a no brainer really.

But of course, I had to go against my instinct and stay at 'home'. I couldn't handle another beating. Not now. I hadn't eaten for days...my face was aching and throbbing ever so slightly and I was too tired to even think straight. Not even my job was worth pain.

"Whatever." I scowled at him and he smirked then let go of my. I glanced down at my arm to see 5 obvious, bright red finger marks invading the paleness of my skin. I gulped and watched as my brother started stumbling down the stairs. I followed him uncertainly and stumbled slightly as I went light headed.

"Grow a pair, bitch." he stuttered when he reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to see me stepping carefully. I bit my tongue to stop retorting a response and followed him into the room that most families call their living room. Ours was just a bare room with newspaper lining the floor.

No wallpaper.

No pictures or drawings or mirrors hung on the wall.

There was only 3 large arm chairs, a coffee table that looked like it would collapse with the faintest poke and, to finish it of, an array of  empty alcohol bottles and old take-out cartons strewn across the floor.