Chapter 35: The Truth

Viola

I shook as I stood in the middle of the bedroom wondering what I would do. There was no time to put on makeup to hide how much Mother had punctured my flesh with her long nails. 

Or the handprint from where Father grabbed me roughly.

I wished more than anything that I had covered up the marks first thing when I arrived home. Instead, I'd wallowed in my sadness–something that was getting me in trouble already.

"You're not naked," Nikolas said from the door. He still had his gun in his hands and that dangerous look in his eyes. 

Any remnants of the gentle man who made love to me nice and slow so he wouldn't hurt me were gone. The man who cleaned me after he took my virginity and changed our sheets was gone.