To Fight Back (gxg)

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Chapter 20

Garth gets out of the car, moving to open my door for me.

I sit still for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to calm the queasiness in my stomach. Slowly, I climb out of the car, Garth shutting the door after, the sound making me jump.

Damn, I guess I'm a bit more anxious about this than I thought. Even so, I can't let that show. Without a mask, I'm bound to break down and I really don't want to give my family the satisfaction of seeing me like that yet again.

With each step I take to the house, I let the facade fall into place, that dull, uninterested look claiming my face. I keep my breathing steady, my posture slightly slouched.

I press the doorbell, Priscilla soon letting me in then disappearing into the kitchen.

I stuff my hands in my pockets, tempted to get out my Airpods to help me stay calm, but I know it'd only make them more annoyed, so I refrain.

I walk upstairs, to the study, where my parents usually brought me when I needed to be punished. I hear voices inside, confirming my guess.

I rest my forehead against the dark wood door, tying the loose ends in my head, perfecting my carefree persona, readying myself for what I'll meet on the other side.

When I've prepared all I can, I knock three times, the voices silencing. Footsteps come near the door, pausing, then it's opened to reveal my father, pure disgust showing in his expression as he looks down at me.

He moves aside, and I enter the study, hearing the door shut and lock behind me.

The study is more like a library. It's a large room, bookshelves lined with countless amounts of random books on all the walls, hardwood floors broken up by multiple rugs, furniture placed in the corners.

I spot my stepmother casually sitting on a red sofa to the right, one leg crossed over the other, watching me as I move to the center of the room.

I feel my father come up behind me, putting his hand on my shoulder. "So I heard you and Caven had a little tussle this Saturday. Over a girl, wasn't it? You broke his nose real good, had his head aching for a while, bruises on his wrist. Mind telling me why exactly you felt the need to hurt my son?" He asks, in a deep, accusing tone.

I have to stop myself from frowning when he says 'my son'. Am I not your real daughter? Is he not only your step son? Whatever, Blake, just ignore it.

I lower my head. "He was sleeping with my girlfriend for months, and I caught them together that night. I was hurt that after all he's done to me, he would take away the one I love as well, sir. It pushed me over the edge, and I took my anger out on him," I answer emotionlessly.

"Tsk. What a shame. I thought you would've known better than to lay a hand on him. You don't deserve love, Blake. He was simply taking what you weren't supposed to be graced with in the first place. You were in the wrong, as you always are, and now you'll get what you do deserve," he says.

Suddenly, he slams his elbow into the back of my skull and I fall forward, clutching my head as it throbs with pain, but not making a sound. He kicks the side of my ribs, and this time I whimper.

"Get up," he snarls.

I make it to my feet again, swaying as my body vibrates. I keep my eyes down in a form of submission when he moves in front of me.

Before I know it, he sends his fist into my stomach, hard. I double over, groaning, coughing up blood. I dig my nails into the floor, biting my lip even when I taste iron in hopes it'll help me to not cry.

Thick liquid spills out of my mouth, dripping slowly, making a plopping sounds as each drop hits the ground.

"Get the fuck up!" Father yells.

I sit on my knees, sliding one foot up at a time, using my arms to push myself up until I straighten out to stand. I soon bend over though when a shock of pain erupts through me.

"Straighter!" He kicks my shin with his pointy dress shoes, almost making me lose my balance, but I force myself to stand taller despite my body heavily protesting.

He backhands my cheek with force, his nail catching my skin and scratching me, making me wince. "What gives you the right to punish Caven for nothing? Huh?"

When I stay quiet, he slaps me again on the other side, turning my head with the impact. "Answer me, dammit!"

"N-nothing, sir," I mumble brokenly.

"Damn right nothing!" He pushes my chest and I stumble backwards, his grip on my neck catching me. "You, of all people, have no right. You good for nothing, pathetic, disgusting little mistake! You're the one who deserves to be punished, over and over again, for all of you're life, because you're going to fucking hell and when you get there they better fucking worship me for putting you in you're rightful place all this damn time!"

After his rant, he continues to hit me, kick me, scream at me, even after I fall on the ground again, trembling, in so much pain.

Why? Why is this what I deserve? What have I done to him or anyone that would make it right for me to have to endure this as punishment? I just want a normal life, that's all I've ever wanted.

Loving parents, a protective brother. Not this. God, never this. Make it stop, I hate this, why is this happening to me!?

He drags me by my hair to the bookshelf, slumping me against it. I don't have the strength to even sit up straight, so I stay hunched over, blood from my nose and mouth falling onto my lap. I blink, numb to the pain at this point, tears unconsciously running down my face.

I hear him sigh in frustration, and through my eyelashes I glimpse his feet going to sit at the couch with his wife, which is in front of me on the opposite side of the room.

"Just the sight of you makes me sick, Blake. I can't believe you're my offspring." He says, sounding as if he's actually feeling sorry for himself right now. "Well, that's not entirely true. Seeing you like this is quite pleasurable," he laughs.

He keeps talking, but I can't hear him. The words won't form in my head. Eventually his voice just fades into a buzz. I let my eyes flutter closed. Tired, I'm so tired.

In the background of the buzzing, I make out a knocking sound. Then loud, annoyed footsteps followed by a door opening. More voices buzz, getting louder all of a sudden. They sound angry. I try to decipher them, but I'm so exhausted. I can't open my eyes, nor do I want to. I just want to sleep. I sigh, letting the white noise lull me to an empty, dreamless sleep.

-----

"-aby. Baby," a voice whispers.

A soft hand caresses my cheek. Huh? What is this? Am I dreaming?

"Baby, wake up," they say, louder this time, but still gentle. This must be a dream. They sound so caring. No one would talk to me like that.

No one cares for me. I don't deserve that. Isn't that what father said? Yes. It's true. He taught me that, since I was young. He's right. I didn't believe him, I thought Layla did. But she didn't. He reminded me, by punishing me.

It hurt, a lot. But I understand. What were those voices, though? At the end. They sounded mad. What happened?

"Wake up."

I need to wake up. But my eyes feel so heavy. Like they're weighed down. I push through it, blinking a few times until it gets easier to open them.

The hand on my face jolts, someone gasps. "Oh my God, you're awake!"

I wince at the volume of the person, the sound worsening a headache I hadn't noticed until then.

"Ah, I'm so sorry," they whisper. " I'm just so happy you're awake, Blake. I was so worried about you."

I frown in confusion, my vision blurring for a moment, but it gives way soon. I over up to see Emory sitting next to me, while I lay down.

"What are you doing here? Where even is here?" I ask hoarsly, my throat feeling very dry.

"Do you need some water?" I nod, taking the plastic cup she offers, gulping down the drink.

She grabs the now empty cup, setting it on the floor, taking my hand in hers. "Do you remember what happened yesterday?"

"Yesterday was Monday, right?" I ask. She nods. "Yeah... I went to school, stayed for tutoring. My parents sent Garth to pick me up, we went to my house... I met them in the study. H- he... punished me. I fell asleep to someone at the door, and loud voices."

I lower my gaze to our hands, sadness filling my mind, the pain in my body slowly returning.

Emory sighs. "Those voices were the police, baby."

I snap my head to her, ignoring the ache, my eyes wide. "What?"

"Someone tipped the cops that you were being abused yesterday, saying they needed to send people to your house right away. Apparently a valet or something confirmed that that's likely what was happening. So, they busted in, heard yelling, followed it to the study, found you against the wall, your Dad's hands covered in your blood, your step mom watching."

"Wha-what happened to them?"

She squeezes my hand, smiling softly, but it looked too fake. "Your parents were arrested. The valet, maids, bulters, cooks and that stuff reported that this has been going on almost all your life, and I told them what you told me. Even without your testimony, they'll be in jail for at least the next 5 years for child abuse, domestic violence, child neglect. The list goes on."

She looks hesitant to say the next part, opening and closing her mouth. "They, uh. They were informed that Caven was suspected to have... raped you by multiple counts, including me. They looked over some security camera footage, proving it, more than once. They're looking for him now, to arrest him, but they said it looks as though he fled. If he's gets out of the country, they can't do anything about it unless he came back on his own accord.

But to answer your other question, you're at the infirmary in the police station. You're injuries weren't bad enough to warrant a trip to the hospital, and they need a statement from you as well as to decide what's going to happen to you, so they just kept you here."

I fall back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Holy shit." My parents are in jail. Caven either will be, or is hiding in some foreign country. I'm free. They can't hurt me ever again.

Tears fall from my eyes, but I don't know why. I don't stop it though, I let myself cry, Emory moving to hold me while I sob.

Who told the cops? How would they know I was there then? It wasn't Emory. It could've been Garth, or some other of my parents employees, but they'd be too scared of the repercussions if it went wrong.

More importantly, what now? I'm not an adult for another two weeks. What will happen to me now?

My head and my body hurts, all this information and crying wearing me out.

Without thinking, I pull Emory onto the small bed with me, almost instantly falling asleep again as soon as I feel her warmth.

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