Affair with My Dadddy's Best friend

tting up with all of this craziness. My remembrance of yesterday night's events was still vivid. I was worried by the fact that Kaz was the type of man who could t

nd. I heard him climb out of bed, and I balled my fists into a fist. "I told your brother, he's meeting us over there." My father says: I nodded, feeling too afraid to say anything right now. Saying "thank you," I spoke. His strong slap sent my head to the left with a whoosh of air across my cheek. At the sound of the slap, I gave a horrible groan, and my mother shrieked. "Did I tell you to speak?" My body leapt instinctively at his cry. I gave a brief shake of my head, trying to ease a little of the strain. It crept gently up to my cheek, and I tried to soothe myself with my hand, but he smacked it away. "You are such a stupid girl." He turned around and seemed, for some reason, nervous. His backhand fist instantly squashed me on the ground, causing blood to stream from my mouth. I had known pain for almost my whole life, so it was a very familiar feeling. "I'm sorry." I broke down in tears. I know it was a lie, but I have to tell lies to escape him and his horrible torment. His anger is building again, and he laughs as he looks down at me. His foot hits my stomach hard, and I try to cover it with my palm, but my lips open in a painful groan. I roll onto my back, more terrified of the man who ought to be shielding me from harm than of the agony. It was quiet; my mother fears that if she stands up for me, he will become enraged with her. "Clean yourself up; we don't want your father-in-law seeing you like this, do we?" He nuzzles my shoulder with his sneaker, and all I can do is nod. The only thing keeping me from telling him to go to hell was fear of what he might do to me. I then carried on with my regular activities. I went into their room, got the alcohol, and rubbed it all over my gashes. I tried to hide my bruises with my mom's heavy concealer, but they showed through the makeup, so I lifted my top up to showcase my hurting stomach. My eyes started to well up with tears that I was unable to control. I have no idea how or why. My fingers gripped the sink's sides, and my lips fell softly. I detest him. I opened the door and tried desperately to close it with my leg. I drew back when Bodhi approached me gingerly, closed the door behind him, tipped my chin to the side, and looked at my wounds. Rather than say anything, he raised the damp towel up to my cheek and rubbed my wound, trying to push the memory away. "You stood outside." I pulled away from his contact and said so