Loving Her

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(2) Fear

an unpleasant emotion caused by the threat of danger, pain, or harm.

Skylar Stryker

I stood on trembling legs as I assess the man less than a feet from me. He wore a long grey sweater and a leather jacket with black jeans and combat boots. I hugged my bare body as the gaze of the unknown stranger sends shivers down my spine. He walked closer and I gasped. He had to be the most beautiful man I had ever seen , his hair was Black and wavy it was slightly long but it curled at the end and his steel-grey eyes didn’t seem realistic. He had a stubble on his strong sharp jaw and his lips were pink and plump looking from where I stood.

My gaze shifted to the dead body laying on the dirty cold concrete floor and a sob racked through my body. The Beautiful Stranger stood there, still as a statue as fat tears rolled down my frozen cheeks. We must have been in that position for two minutes before my tears finally ceased. My small hands wrapped around my body, trying to keep warm as the coldness from the night whipped at my tired body. In my mind, I was beyond grateful for the darkness that the alley provided, I don’t think I could handle someone so intimidating and beautiful seeing something as ugly as my scars.

I heard rustling before something large and warm was dropped onto my shoulders. The scent of his cologne wafted around me, almost like a barrier, keeping me safe.

Looking up confused, I was met with a pair of grey eyes that stared intently at me.

“You should head home.” The Beautiful Stranger said, even though his voice was soft, it was full of power. His voice was deep and it sent a small shiver up my spine. Without a last glance, he turned to leave before I called out to him.

He stopped but didn’t turn around, stepping over the body -that I was sure I was going to have nightmares about- I jogged to his side and faced him once more.

His jaw was set firmly as he stared ahead, not sparing me a glance and to be honest I was thankful.

“P-please don’t leave me here alone.” I begged him. I didn’t want to be out here alone and there was no way in hell I was going back to Adam’s. The Beautiful Stranger bit his bottom lip and seemed to be having an internal war inside his head.

“Where do you live?” He finally looked down at me and I had to stop myself from shivering as his intense, cold eyes made contact with mine.

“Kingston Drive.” I know telling a stranger where I lived was a bad idea, especially since he just killed a man not a few minutes ago. Even if the drunken man tried to rape me, The Beautiful Stranger in front of me still had murdered someone. Hell, the man before me radiated danger and yet somehow, I felt safe in his presence. Did that make me seem like a psychopath? Most likely. Yet I would still choose to be a psychopath with him than stay with the dead body in the alley way.

His sigh broke me out of my thoughts, “Okay, let’s go. It’s not safe out here.” He looked around before turning and walking down the street. I hurriedly followed as he lead me to a black Lykan Hyper Sport that was parked on the street. He opened the door for me and I got in, mumbling a ‘Thank You’. Finally, we drove off to the place I despised.

The Beautiful Stranger never once looked at me the whole ride, he kept his gaze on the road and his fingers clenched around the wheel. There was a silence in the car that wasn’t awkward or needed to be filled with words. It was peaceful and I found myself feeling the tiredness from the day hit me.

We eventually pulled up to the house that belonged to my parents. Instead of getting out of the car, I stayed seated. I stared at the house that was my personal hell and couldn’t help but clasping my hands in my lap. I was thankful that the man beside me didn’t rush me out of his car. He was giving me time and it had me wishing I could tell him to drive me to a different part of the world but I had to face reality and the consequences of my actions.

I had no doubt that Adam would have had called my father to inform him of what happened, twisting the truth so that my father would believe him.

“Thank you for saving me.” I say sincerely. He glanced at me and barely nodded his head. I wrung my fingers in my lap, facing the man in the driver’s seat.

“Can I at least get the name of my saviour?” I ask. His head snapped to mine all most instantly, like he wasn’t expecting me to ask him that.

He seemed hesitant for a bit before simply uttering, “Tate.”

“Tate.” It was a simple name but nothing seemed simple about the man who the name belonged too.

Finally, I got out of the car and watched as Tate drive down the street and out of sight but definitely not out of my mind. Walking up the steps of the mansion, I open the door and enter. Leaning against the now closed door, my mind drifts to the stranger known as Tate. He had this air of mysteriousness surrounding him and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted physically to him.

“Who was that?” A voice snaps, I look up to see my father standing there, his body tense and a furious look in his eyes.

“I-it was nobody.” I say quietly, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Why did Adam call me and said you kicked him and ran out!” He took a threatening step toward me. “Huh? Who was that guy, Skylar?”

“He just helped me. I-I got lost a-and Adam tried to r-rape me.” I let out a sob and cover my mouth with my hands as I thought about what would have happened If I hadn’t gotten out of there when I did.

“And?” My father rolled his eyes, annoyed. Realization clicked in my mind as I stared at my father whom wore a blank look.

“You don’t care.” I state. My eyes welled with more tears as I looked at the floor.

I didn’t know what I was expecting. Maybe I was hoping that my father didn’t hold that much hatred in his heart for me and that he would realize the amount of pain he caused me but he didn’t care.

“I do care.” Hope filled my heart, “About the amount of money you make me.”

My heart broke and I knew that nothing I could do will ever make them love me.

“You better be making me money. Heck give your virginity to him if you have too!” He snarled before saying, “Get to your room, bitch.”

All common sense left my head and was replaced by blinding anger that sizzled in my blood.

“I HATE YOU!” I screamed and then I feel a sharp sting on my face and suddenly I am on the ground, holding my cheek. I look up to see my mother standing next to my father and she was shaking off her right hand.

“You will listen to your father, whore.”

Tears streamed down my face as they leave to their bedroom. Slowly I bring myself up and off the floor and head to the stairs to my room. Once inside the comfort of my bedroom, I lock the door and head into my bathroom. I look in the mirror and wince at my reflection, my dark hair was messy and sticking out in different places. Tears stained my face and my eyes were red and puffy, a red hand print graced the right side of my face. I stripped off Tate’s jacket and peel the rest of my clothes off before stepping into the shower. The warm water soothed my muscles as I scrubbed every inch of my body, trying to scrub tonight events off. Stepping out of the shower I wrap a towel around my body and soon I found myself in bed,under my duvet. I stared at the ceiling, deep in my thoughts. This all happened because of what happened years ago. I couldn’t help but feel like I deserved this. After all, what happened was all my fault.

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