CHAPTER THREE

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                           -•PRESLEY•-

Robert was not happy with me. His friends were sat around the kitchen table playing an obnoxiously loud game of poker. Whenever his friends came to visit, it was a beer fest. The smell of alcohol tainted every corner of the house.

I had a large round of homework waiting for me upstairs in my room, but instead I stood in the kitchen, being yelled at by Robert who was red faced.

"Boy, you can't even hand me a drink correctly, a fucking snail could be more useful to me than you," Robert spat, hastily wiping away the beer that I clumsily spilled over him.

The table of drunken middle aged men howled with laughter. I felt myself shrink away from them, itching for a mint to clear the anxiety that caused my body to tremble.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I swear," I forced out, voice shaking.

"Don't lie to me, boy," He growled. "You think I'm stupid?"

I shook my head frantically, backing up into the kitchen counter.

"Rob, you ought to give that boy a nice beating, that's the only way he'll learn," said one of Robert's friends, sporting a smug expression.

Robert looked from the man with the scruffy beard, to me. He cracked his knuckles. "Yeah, I think you're right, Griff."

Before he could reach out and grab me, I raced past him as fast as I could to the front door. Dread washed over me when a large, meaty hand clamped painfully over my boney wrist. I wasn't fast enough, not with five other big men at my disadvantage.

I wanted to scream and thrash out of frustration but what good would it do? Would I somehow manage to produce magical powers that could get me out of this mess? No, the truth was that I was alone, and no one was going to protect me. No one was going to save me.

God, how I wish I didn't need saving.

The hand that was clamped around my wrist belonged to Griff, the largest one with the scruffy beard. I almost gagged at his stench. He threw me with frightening strength to the door.

"Give us a show, Rob," he said, gesturing to my quivering form. He backed away, grabbed his beer and watched smugly as Robert approached me.

"You think you're so much better than me, boy but even you're mother was repulsed by you. You were a burden to her. You were why she was so miserable," he said, eyes narrowed as he stood in front of me. His breath smelled like it always did, like stale liquor.

Hopeless tears pooled in my eyes. I shook my head, refusing to believe him. "No," I said weakly. " You're wrong."

The first blow came and it was launched directly into my abdomen. I doubled over, gasping for air as the table of alcoholics hooted in delight.

"Tell me I'm wrong again, and you'll see what's going to happen to you, boy," he growled.

"Please, you-you loved her too, she wouldn't want you to hurt me," I pleaded through tears.

A backhanded slap connected with my cheek, leaving it feeling red hot. For a second, I couldn't feel my face.

The four men watching howled with laughter.

Robert grabbed me harshly by my shirt. " You know nothing about me, don't pretend like I should care for you just because I ever gave a damn about her."

Tears spilled down my cheeks. The look in Robert's eyes was something I'd never seen before. It was something beyond anger. It was like he finally realized that he hated me.

I didn't know why he had a reason to hate me. It wasn't fair that he had a reason to hate me. I should be the one who glowered at him like that, with undying hatred. He had no right to hate me, he hadn't suffered like I had.

"I hate you," I whispered. If I was going to die tonight, he needed to hear it.

Another slap across the cheek made my vision tilt dangerously. Warm blood trailed down my neck. Tears mingled with the thick blood.

A forceful kick to my stomach sent me crashing into the door. I coughed uncontrollably, attempting to catch a breath that wasn't available.

"You're dead tonight, boy, just like your poor mother," Robert sneered.

Panic seized me. I'd never wanted a fresh mint so badly. I wanted a loyal defense on my side. I wanted something to hold onto. I thought I was ready to die, but no, I couldn't die at the hands of the person I hated most.

"I-I don't want to die," I whispered, mostly to myself.

Barks of laughter filled the room. "Tough luck, buddy," Robert said.

As Robert raised his hand to strike me again, he froze when he heard the chime of the door bell.

"I told you to not be inviting people to my house, boy!," Robert bellowed.

I shook my head, coughing. "I didn't, I swear."

He opened the front door and the evening air hit me with unexpected comfort. At the front door stood two little girls with boxes of cookies in their hands. Girl Scouts.

Maybe there really was a God in heaven who wanted to protect me.

This was my only opportunity to escape, I would be a fool to ignore it. I mustered enough courage to hastily barge past Robert and jump over the little wagon that the girls held the rest of their cookies in.

"PRESLEY! Get back here right now!," Robert bellowed.

I didn't get to hear the rest of what he had to say because my legs were propelling me at full speed as far away from that horrid house as possible.

I drunk in the smell of freedom. The cold air whipped through my hair and it nipped at my bare arms but I didn't care. Nothing else mattered more than the distance between Robert and I.

I ran aimlessly through neighborhoods that become unrecognizable. I was lost, hopefully that would keep Robert away.

When I prepared to take a breath on the lonely sidewalk, I heard an engine hum to life. At first, panic arose in my chest and my pulse quickened with the thought that Robert had found me.

When I looked to my left, I relaxed mildly because the engine belonged to a car that screamed luxury. There was nothing luxurious about Robert or his car.

The luxurious black car pulled up directly in front of me. The engine kept running even as a buff looking man exited the passenger seat. I didn't spare him a second glance as I started running again.

"Damn it, Bruce go after him! Nathan is going to kill us if we come back empty handed," shouted the buff mans companion from the drivers side.

Bruce? Nathan? Both names were foreign to my mind. I tried wracking my brain for any recognition but there wasn't any.

I heard heavy footsteps start to chase after me. I willed my legs to carry me further and faster but my stamina was low from escaping Robert.

The buff man tackled me with little effort and I hit the ground, hard. I struggled under him, flailing my arms wildly, trying desperately to escape. It was like fighting with a wall.

No, No, No, No. This cannot be happening right now. I had never known panic like this, at least with Robert I knew what to expect but this was an entirely different situation. I wasn't prepared for this.

My attacker didn't say a word as he clamped a hand over my mouth to keep me from screaming. The big man proceeded to half drag me to the luxurious black car. He threw a bag over my head and the last thing I saw were the houses that filled the neighborhood before all I saw was darkness.

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