Lovin' The Bad Boy |completed|

Loving The Bad Boy: Chapter Eight

Loving The Bad Boy: Chapter Eight

Chapter Status: Edited

Vince's urging eyes made me turn my head, gulping invisibly. I took a sharp breath in, letting it go almost hesitantly. Ugh, why did I have to admit that I was ready to tell him my story? Why couldn't I keep my big mouth shut?

"Are you going to tell me, or do you feel like you need more time?" Vince's voice rang through my ears, bringing me out of my deep thought. I looked him in his gray eyes, seeing an the same emotion that keeps flashing through when I ever look him in the eyes.

"Yes." I replied, breathing in. "Ready for a story that will actually not take up the whole night?"

"Yes, I actually am." Vince answered m, running a hand through his hair.

"Okay." I looked him in his gray eyes. "It all started when I was just seven years old. My mother passed away unexpectedly, and both my father and I were depressed at the sudden loss. It just couldn't get through our heads that she died so sudden. The doctor said she died of breast cancer, but that isn't the point.

Since my father was so devastated, he took all his pain and anger out on me and other girls that he would bring home every night. And the worst part was that even though I was just seven, I knew that my father had changed; he wasn't the same loving, funny father anymore. He was a monster that abused me, and sometimes all the other girls he brought home if they even laid a hand on me.

By the time I was ten years old, I knew my loving father was never coming back. The beatings got much, much worse to the point that I would have to go to school with big blue, purple bruises from my torso down. There would also be consequences if I didn't do the things he ordered, coming home late, and things like that. For example, if my father were to order me to make him dinner and I didn't, he wouldn't give me good for the rest of the week which wasn't to bad since he hardly gave me food every day.

When I was sixteen, I've had more than enough of the beatings, of him. I practically begged him to stop the beatings, to stop getting drunk every night, to go back to the loving father that I once loved. That once mother loved. But at the mention of my mother, he snapped at locked me in my room for two weeks, giving me no food or water. But before that he told me that he didn't love me, didn't care about me, that he would choose Heather, the girl he was apparently dating at the time, over me. And the saddest part was the I believed him, I lost my father forever. He would never come back, ever. I just gave up on everything, on him and everybody.

And finally after one last beating, I snapped and ran away from him. That's when I bumped into you and you took me to your house. I can't thank you enough for saving me from that monster, now I never have to go back to him. Thank you, Vince." By now I was crying, the tears running freely down my face. Vince hushed me, wiping the tears away with his sleeve and kissing me passionately afterwards.

"Now, I assume that I have to tell you my story?" Vince questioned.

"Yes." I choked out, wiping away the rest of the tears.

"What do you want to know?" Vince asked, laying down on his bed so that his eyes were fixed on the white ceiling.

"About how you became a bad boy." I replied hesitantly, closing my eyes since it was late at night.

"Okay." Vince smirked at me. "That's an east topic, but I'll only tell you if you cuddle with me." He opened his arms, signaling me to lay down on his chest. I rolled my eyes, laying my head down and relaxing as he ran his fingers through my hair. He took a deep breath before starting his story that he promised to tell me. "Well, it all started when...

{Updated!!! Next update will be soon!!!! Sorry it's short!!!}