His Kitten

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Can a girl getting abused, everyday, be saved? Grace Lee Nichole. Dirty blonde hair, icy blue eyes, fair skin complexion. She lives with her horrible Father, Richie Roy Nichole, and her insane Step Mother, Brooke Lynn East-Nichole. Graces Father beats her mercilessly if she breaks a rule. These rules are very random and stupid. But Grace Lee knows none other than these rules and beatings. Now to see if she can make it out alive... Blake Michael Scott. Dark brown hair, grey blue eyes, fair skin complexion. He lives with his inner gang members. He street races, street fights, and deals in order to make sure his gang is known and feared. He doesn't settle for anything less of what he wants. His mom is a lawyer, for his gang, obviously. His dad, on the other hand, is a whole different story. Now to see if this gang leader can find love... ____ This story was originally posted on Wattpad but I decided to share it on both platforms, hope you enjoy!<3

Romance / Drama
Mackenzie Cutaio
4.7 25 reviews
Age Rating:

1-I had just cleaned too, ugh.

"Grace Lee, get your ass upstairs right now!"

The screeching of my Stepmother makes me jump, time to face my second worst nightmare.

I make my way from the basement to the main floor of the house.

Beer cans and different kinds of drugs are spread throughout the house.

I had just cleaned too, ugh.

"Yes ma'am," I silently say when I walk into the living room.

She looks at me with pure disgust before calling my Father down so they can both yell at, torture, or break news to me. My Stepmother continues to look hatefully at me while waiting for my Father to come downstairs. A few moments later we can hear the heaviness of his footsteps on the stairs.

My Father used to play football in high school and college but he quit after my mother got pregnant with me so he could be with her during the pregnancy. He is still built like a wide receiver though, except this certain wide receiver has a beer gut.

"Grace Lee, dear, we need you to clean up the house. We have some very important guests coming over and we want them to think we are put together and happy. Can you do that for us, pumpkin?" My Father said to me in a sickly sweet voice.

He was trying to be nice, and he was failing miserably.

"Of course Father. Where would you like me to be when the guests come over?" I say as clearly as I can without my voice shaking.

My Father takes a second to think about his response before smirking. I am scared at this point.

"You can be upstairs with your Stepmother and I. The guests need a happy family illusion. They'll be coming over tomorrow when you get home from school. So you will have this afternoon and ten minutes before they get here to tidy the place up. Don't forget snacks and refreshments." My Father says before continuing, "If you displease your Stepmother or I in any way you will be severely punished."

"Yes, Sir" Is all I say as I head to start my cleaning.

I clean up as much as I can for the rest of the afternoon. I clean the living room first, assuming that they will be sitting in there when they're talking, I then clean the foyer, the dining room, and last but not least, the kitchen.

After I'm finished cleaning I run down the stairs to take a quick shower.

I stop halfway on the stairs and notice what I did.

I broke a rule.

I was to busy cleaning I forgot to make dinner.

"You little bitch! Who do you think you are! Where's our dinner? You fat whore! Did you eat it all yourself?!" My Father roars from the top of the stairs.

The next thing I know he's running at me full speed and tackling me to the ground. That's definitely going to leave a bruise on my back.

And that's how my night went. Bruises, aching muscles, busted lips, broken ribs, and etcetera.

Tomorrow I'm going to be sore.

My Father lays a few more hits and kicks to me before leaving my room with a grunt.

"Now get up and make us dinner" He yells from the top step.

"Yes, Sir" Is my cracked and broken response.

I lay on my 'bedroom' floor for a few more moments before forcing myself to get up and head upstairs.

When I reach the top step I see my Father and Stepmother on the couch acting like the french.

I make them ribeye steak, green beans, and mashed potatoes.

I plate their food and bring it to them.

"Father. Stepmother. I have your food."

"Well set it down, bitch." My Stepmother tries to screech out while lacking oxygen.

"Yes, ma'am."

As soon as I set it down my Stepmother goes at the food like she hasn't eaten in days. It amazes me that she stays tiny with how much she eats.

I walk away from the living room, leaving them to eat and go back to their activities.

I skip dinner tonight.

I go back to my 'bedroom' and lay on my mattress.

I have a long day of school tomorrow and so many bruises to cover up.

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