Broken ✓

O N E | edited

ALEXA

I could feel the hot, sticky tears as they streamed down my face. My knee throbbed with sharp pain. My breath hitched in my chest, and I clutched my leg, trying to ignore the fact that it was probably bleeding. Blake towered over me, his smirk making my stomach churn.

"Aw, the poor baby's crying," Blake sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.

I didn't answer, too caught up in the pain that was radiating from my knee. He shoved me roughly, and I hit the concrete with a sickening thud. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to disappear, to escape from this nightmare.

"Open your damn eyes!" Blake barked, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking me upright.

I whimpered, the sound escaping before I could stop it. Blake's smirk grew wider, and I shrank back, my heart pounding harder.

"Please," I whispered, barely able to form the words. My throat was tight with fear, the plea barely audible.

"What was that, Lexi?" Blake's voice was mocking, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "Speak up."

"Please!" I cried out louder than I intended. It didn't help. It never helped.

I tried to pull away, but Blake tightened his grip on my hair. He stared at me with that same predatory look, and I knew, deep down, that there was no mercy in him.

He let go of my hair, and for a brief, fleeting second, I thought I was free. But then the sting of his slap sent my face crashing into the ground once again. I curled into a ball, clutching my cheek. It burned, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest, the humiliation, the helplessness.

"Run along now, little Lexi," Blake spat, his voice cold. "And remember, don't raise your voice to me."

Numb, I nodded and stumbled to my feet, ignoring the pain in my knee as I ran. The world around me blurred with the tears that wouldn't stop falling. All I wanted was to get away from him, away from this nightmare.

I reached home, gasping for breath, my legs shaking from the effort of running and the terror I was still reeling from. I closed the door behind me, and my eyes landed on my dad. He was standing there with a beer bottle in hand, his posture stiff.

"Where have you been?!" he demanded, his voice slurring just enough to make the words even more terrifying.

I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice caught. My throat felt tight with the emotions I couldn't express. I forced myself to calm down, swallowing back the lump in my throat.

"Do you not see my bruised face or knee?" My voice trembled with sadness, but I didn't want to sound weak. I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.

"I do," he said, but his eyes were cold, distant. "But I had to make my own dinner!"

"S-sorry," I muttered, my stomach tightening. I hoped he hadn't drunk too much. But the beer bottle told me otherwise.

He glared at me, his expression sour. "Brat," he said. "Whatever. I have news. Remember Veronica?"

"No," I said flatly. I'd never met her. My dad kept me locked away in my room, hidden from whatever life he had outside of our broken house.

His eyes narrowed. "Well, we're getting married."

My heart stopped for a moment. The words felt like a punch in the gut. Veronica? A new mother figure? Or another person to make my life even more miserable?

I swallowed hard, trying to process the shock. What if she's just another person who'll hate me? What if she's like him?

"You're getting remarried?" I asked, my voice hollow, more an accusation than a question.

"Yes, you brat!" His voice grew louder, and I flinched, afraid the anger would build into something worse. "Which means Veronica finally has to meet you."

The way he said it made it sound like a chore for him. I could see it in his face—the frustration, the bitterness. I wasn't his priority. I was just someone he had to deal with.

My legs felt weak, and I could barely keep myself from collapsing. "W-when will I meet her?" I asked quietly, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"In an hour," he snapped, then glared at me. "Look presentable."

I nodded, fighting the urge to cry. It wasn't because of Veronica, but because of the sheer weight of everything else pressing down on me. Blake, my dad, the isolation—I just wanted to be invisible.

I rushed to my room, closing the door behind me with a soft click.

Where's the concealer? I found it tucked in the corner of my drawer and carefully applied it over my cheek, trying to hide the bruising. I glanced at my knee, seeing the torn fabric of my jeans. There was no time to care about that now. I quickly changed into a fresh pair and tried to collect myself.

The doorbell rang, and my stomach churned.

That must be Veronica, I thought. She's early.

I left my room, and my dad was already at the door, greeting her. She was beautiful—black hair, green eyes, a warm smile that contrasted sharply with everything about this house. She kissed my dad, and for a moment, I felt like an intruder in their world.

"Alexa, sweetie," my dad called, his voice oddly soft.

Sweetie? That made me shiver. It didn't sound like him.

Hesitant, I walked over, forcing a smile. Veronica smiled back, and it was... kind. Too kind for someone I didn't know.

"Hello," she said, her voice gentle. "You must be his lovely daughter."

Lovely? My stomach twisted. I didn't believe for a second that my dad had ever described me like that. But his gaze warned me to keep quiet, so I did.

"Yes, I'm Alexa," I said. "Congrats on getting engaged..."

"Thank you, darling," Veronica replied. "Now if only my sons were as supportive as you are!" She laughed lightly, her eyes sparkling.

Her sons? The words hung in the air, confusing me. Why didn't my dad ever mention them?

Before I could ask, my dad spoke. "Dinner should be ready soon," he said, his tone abrupt. "Let's go sit down."

I froze. Dinner? He'd already eaten. He never cared whether I ate. I hadn't had anything all day. My stomach growled loudly, betraying me.

Veronica smiled again. "I am starving!" she said with a beaming smile, and for a second, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe she wasn't like my dad. Maybe...

But that thought was short-lived. She seemed too nice, and I didn't trust it. Still, I followed them into the dining room.

I sat down at the table, trying to make myself small. My dad and Veronica talked, but I stayed silent, too afraid to join in.

Finally, Veronica turned to me. "I'm so glad to finally meet you," she said. "I never had a daughter before. Only five boys."

Five boys? My mind raced. I hadn't heard anything about them.

"Didn't Bob tell you?" she asked playfully, looking at my dad with a teasing glance.

My dad grunted, not bothering to answer. "Isn't it past your bedtime?" he asked, his voice dismissive.

I didn't answer, because I didn't have a bedtime. Not really. But I knew what he meant. He wanted me gone.

I stood up and went to my room, the hunger gnawing at my stomach. As always, there would be no dinner for me.