His Mission (HIS SERIES Book 1) Page 2

  She doesn't deserve a chance to speak to me, I've given her too many. There comes a point in your life when you forgive multiple times because you care for someone but eventually you have to let go because they keep shitting all over your chances.

  Mum clears her throat, acting completely oblivious to my anger and resentment towards her. I breathe calmly through my nose before taking another bite of my cereal.

  "I just want to eat my breakfast in peace." I tell her, hoping she'll stand up and leave me alone.

  "Your Aunt Mandy has invited us to her wedding. It's on Saturday and we're going whether you like it or not."

  I practically deep throat my cereal and begin sputtering milk and half eaten cereal everywhere. The place is a mess so it doesn't really make much difference. . .

  "What?" I ask in surprise, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I notice a new expensive looking watch perched onto her wrist — courtesy of Trevor, no doubt.

  Aunt Mandy is my Mum's older sister who I haven't seen for ten years since my fathers funeral. From what I remember, she's a big woman with dark crazy hair who has a tendency to scream instead of talk. As far as I know, Mum hasn't spoken to her in nine years either. She's probably on her fifth husband by now but that doesn't surprise me.

  Mandy goes through men like running tap water.

  "Yes she wants to make amends with us and has invited us all to her wedding. Trevor is more than happy to go so I don't see what the problem is."

  Her face practically glows when she speaks about Trevor.

  Why is she so blind?

  Can she not see the bruise under my eyes or my red scalp? Or hear my cries for Trevor to stop?

  '"I'm not going. There is no way in hell I am playing happy families with you and Trevor." I spit out furiously, shaking my head in disbelief.

  Mum sighs and stands up, scraping the chair back against the tiled floor. She silently places money on the table in front of me.

  "Buy yourself something nice for the wedding."

  "I'm—not—going—Mum!" I hiss, the grip on my spoon tightening so hard it's beginning to bend. At this rate, my precious Golden balls will never get eaten. Mum takes a step back and begins moving dishes around, attempting to tidy up. I stand up, ready to leave. Before I go I hear her mumble under her breath. . .

  "Trevor will make you so you're coming."

  I freeze in my tracks and turn around to look at her. She's hiding behind her hair, avoiding eye contact with me. My heart begins to thump hard against my chest and I frown in confusion, unable to believe her words.

  She's fully aware of the consequences if I disagree. She knows Trevor will hit me and she's threatening me with him?

  Fresh tears sting my eyes but I refuse to let them drop. I hate her. She can't even look her own daughter in the eyes as she threatens to have me beaten if I disagree. I grab the money off the table and slam the kitchen door, running out of the house.

  I need to put space between us before I go crazy.

  *****

  I can't concentrate at all in class. Every time I try to my mind wanders over to the conversation this morning. Mum's threatening words constantly ring through my ears . . .

  Trevor will make you.

  I feel physically sick knowing my own mother knows exactly what Trevor does to me but never stops him. The thought alone is enough to cause my stomach to stir, bringing up the contents of my breakfast.

  "Emily Wentworth!" A voice booms my name, snapping me out of my daze. My eyes meet with a frustrated set that belong to Mrs Wilkins.

  "Yes?"

  "Do you know the answer?" Mrs Wilkins asks me, her voice full of irritation.

  "No, sorry." I sigh, my cheeks heating up as the entire class turn to look at me.

  "That's the third time today you haven't been paying attention Emily. See me after class please." Mrs Wilkins says sternly, turning back towards the board.

  I merely nod and lower myself further into my chair, making myself as small as possible.

  This day has just gone from bad to worse.

  *****

  After continuously re-assuring Mrs Wilkins I'm fine and nothing is distracting me, she lets me leave. Teachers are so oblivious sometimes.

  I grab my bag and swing it over my shoulder, making my way towards the exit. I'm so focused on rushing straight out of her class that I'm not looking where I'm going and slap hard into someone's chest.

  I bounce backwards from the hit and groan quietly as pain flares up my body from my earlier beatings. I feel my body falling backwards, too weak to steady myself. I prepare myself for a hard landing on the floor but it never happens. A warm hand is slid around my waist, the arm tightening around me securely. I feel myself being pulled back up onto my feet and I open my eyes in surprise —

  "Thank you, I — " my words are cut short as my eyes connect with Jake Melvin. I instantly feel the breath knock out of me, the cold in his eyes darkening further.

  "Sorry Jake," I mumble, feeling my throat tighten. I look away from his intense gaze, not quite able to have another stare off with him. I notice his arm is still holding my waist so I clear my throat, a red blush creeping up my neck. His eyes flicker between both of mine before he drops his arm back to his side and takes a step back.

  The entire time he remains silent.

  His outfit consists of a plain white shirt followed by jet black jeans. Casual and plain but on him, it works. The shirt clings tightly on his arms that are muscly and defined, the boy clearly works out. I flinch as I inspect them, knowing how hard the impact would feel if he hit me.

  I can't help myself, I'm always on edge.

  "Watch where you're going next time," Jake mutters quietly, turning his back on me. I frown at his words, narrowing my eyes.

  "At least I apologised!"

  I stare up at him just as fiercely, watching his body still before he does a slow turn.

  Holy crap, he's turning back around.

  His eyes flash with an emotion I don't recognise. It doesn't last long as it's quickly masked over with his usual cold hard stare. He chuckles quietly, taking a step towards me so that my back presses against the wall. I gulp nervously, glancing down the hallway for any sign of help. No luck.

  I watch in fear as Jake raises his arms, a smirk playing on his lips. He places them on either side of my head, caging me between him. I can feel his body inches away from me and my throat dries up considerably. The scent of soap and musk mixed in with the faint smell of cigarette smoke ravels around me. I scrunch my nose up —

  "Jake, move. I can smell smoke on you. It's gross."

  Seriously Emily, why are you speaking to him like this? I'm dead. Officially dead.

  Someone please play Shawn Mendes at my funeral.

  Jake scoffs, his lips twitching up into a smirk.

  "So you're feisty, huh Muffin?"

  He stares straight into my eyes, the blue in them glinting with humour. My own widen in confusion and I frown back at him —

  Muffin? What the fudge?

  "Don't call me that, my name is Emily." I narrow my eyes and try to keep my voice confident but he senses the insecurity behind it. I can tell because the glint in his eyes deepen and I know he's enjoying watching me squirm.

  "Okay Muffin."

  The corner of his mouth tugs upwards into an amused smirk. I huff unhappily and shove at his chest which causes no movement in him whatsoever.

  Is the boy made entirely of lean muscle?

  His arm suddenly moves taking me by surprise so I bring my hands up to protect my head. It's a subconscious action I do from living with Trevor. I always figure if I protect my head as soon as I can, it would cause less damage once Trevor is done with me. I close my eyes and wait for the blow but moments pass and I don't feel any pain.

  "Emily?" Jake asks uneasily, prying my hands away from my face. I look up at him like a timid child, watching as his eyes flash with concern and confusion.

  Oh god, what have I just done?

&nb
sp; I grab my bag which has fallen to the floor and run down the corridor as fast as I can go, my trainers slapping against the tiled floor. I glance over my shoulder to see Jake stood there silently, watching me leave with a blank unreadable expression. My heart begins beating wildly and I silently wish he wouldn't put the clues together.

  I need to keep my home troubles a secret, forever.

  Chapter Four - Stars dancing around my vision.

  I sit on my bed and sigh, running my hands through my wild hair. I barely slept a wink, my entire sleep was plagued with nightmares. The sun is now beginning to rise, sending a small amount of light peeking through my curtains. The light bounces off the walls, creating an iridescent glow of golds.

  I close my eyes and lean back against the wall, enjoying the silence and peace the morning has to offer. The air is always so crisp and fresh, almost as if the world is offering me a clean slate every single day. My thoughts drift to the encounter with Jake yesterday.

  What if he figures out my secret?

  Surely he wouldn't.

  I've kept everything a secret for years and now one silly little mistake is threatening to ruin that. I curse under my breath, rubbing my temple as I feel a headache beginning to form. Lack of sleep and stress can do that to you.

  "Just stay away from him Emily," I mutter to myself. . . That's kind of hard to do when we both share a classroom.

  *****

  I pull up my jeans and settle on wearing a crop jumper with denim jeans. My hair is pin straight and I walk over to my dresser, wincing as I catch a glimpse of my face.

  "Damn, I need a miracle," I groan unhappily, reaching for my makeup bag. I apply concealer under my eyes to disguise the lack of sleep. I also use it to cover up a tender bruise and after a few minutes, it's barely recognisable. Over the years I've mastered hiding cuts, bruises and scars with makeup. It's a hidden talent of mine.

  I finish it off with mascara, eyeliner and a hint of blush. When I'm satisfied, I choose a lip colour before popping it into my school bag. I gather everything I need before heading for my bedroom door.

  Last night I heard Mum and Trevor arguing for hours, thankfully he never laid a finger on her. They'd clearly made up as after the arguing came noises from their bedroom that I never want to hear again. I mentally gag, hoping to God they used a condom. The last thing this dysfunctional family needs is an innocent baby.

  I push open the kitchen door to grab a breakfast bar before heading out. When I notice Trevor sat at the dining table, I freeze, my eyes zoning in on his back. I don't dare breathe incase he hears me. I slowly back up, my feet moving at a snails pace so I don't alert him. I manage to turn halfway around when I hear his voice cut through the silent atmosphere —

  "Where do you think you're going?"

  His words are slurred from his drunken state. I hear the fresh anger in them and wince as I stop in my tracks. I close my eyes and count to five in an effort to calm my breathing down. My hands begin to tremble by my side as I turn around slowly, coming face to face with him.

  "School, where I go everyday." I murmur quietly. He raises one eyebrow and begins taking slow steps towards me. I press myself back into the wall as much as I can, wishing he'll walk straight past me and leave me alone. The stench of alcohol hits me as he approaches and I bite down on my bottom lip to stop myself from gagging in repulsion. He walks past me and I breathe out before realising I shouldn't feel relieved just yet.

  His laboured breaths close up from behind me, creeping up the exposed skin on my neck. He's so close and growing closer by the second. His presence causes my stomach to clench in fear before twisting and turning in disgust. I eventually feel his body connect with mine from behind and I stiffen before forcing my feet to step forward.

  I need to put distance between us.

  Trevor's hand shoots out immediately and circles around my waist. I let out a small squeak in fear, his sudden movement catching me off guard. He yanks me backwards against him, pinning me to his body. I squirm against his touch, my throat closing in as I struggle to breathe. I open my mouth to protest but no sound comes out as I'm paralysed completely with fear.

  The worst feeling is knowing your body is failing you when you need it the most.

  Trevor lowers his head until his mouth is in line with my ear, dirty breath invading my personal space. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, feeling the familiar stinging sensation of tears in my eyes. I refuse to let them drop, I won't give the pig any satisfaction knowing that he's hurting me. His hands press further into my skin and I protest, fighting to get away from him

  "What are you doing?" I finally protest, grateful to have found my voice. I slap his hands away from me, desperate to get free.

  "Don't speak to me like that."

  "Don't touch me like that!" I hit back at him, doing the first thing that comes to mind. I pull my arm forward and elbow him between his legs, hard. His grip on me immediately releases and he bends over from the pain. My eyes widen in surprise and a smirk forms on my lips as I watch him wither in pain, asshole.

  I quickly hop over him, making a beeline for the front door. As soon as Trevor regains his composure, he stands up, letting out a frustrated yell. I don't have time to react as he comes charging at me like a raging bull in a bullfight. The victorious smirk on my face quickly fades, replacing with a look of terror. I quickly glance around for something to use as a weapon but it's no use, I don't have enough time.

  All I can do is throw my hands over my head and take the hit.

  The force of his punch knocks me sideways and I groan, my body falling to the floor. I feel the headache inside my head intensify until it's pounding through my ears. I blink, stars dancing around my vision as they mock me. I clutch my head, feeling warm liquid again my fingers. Blood. Trevor bends down to my level and grabs my jaw, forcing me stare into his eyes.

  Cold dark emotionless eyes that resemble a bottomless black pool.

  "Do that again and I'll hurt you twice as hard."

  His words are emotionless, blunt and calm. However I don't miss the murderous glint in his eyes. He releases my chin and stands up,

  his foot colliding with my stomach. I groan again, feeling a sharp excruciating pain flares up it. My stomach twists with nausea and I dry gag to the side. I'm going to be sick.

  Don't puke Emily, do not puke.

  Trevor walks away from me, satisfied that he's caused enough damage. His footsteps gradually grow quieter until I'm alone, curled up in a ball on the floor. Once he disappears, I allow the first tear to fall followed by several others.

  *****

  As I step off the bus, I grimace in pain before swapping my book bag to my other shoulder. If I move an inch, the pain flares up immediately. I slowly walk down the road, heading for the school building straight ahead.

  "If you walk any slower, that snail will probably pass you."

  I turn my head, my eyes widening in surprise as they land on Jake Melvin. He's right behind me, dressed in a white shirt, jet black skinny jeans and a leather jacket. He's holding a unlit cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other, looking extremely annoyed. The encounter with him flashes through my mind and I smile at him tightly. He raises one brow at me, his eyes quickly scanning over my body.

  "Cat got your tongue Muffin?" He says bluntly and I frown, shooting him a glare. He shrugs it off, stepping around me before walking a few steps ahead. I sigh and switch my bag again, unable to stop the discomfort from flashing across my face.

  "I'm mad at you for being mean yesterday when I apologised." I say loudly, grabbing his attention. I hear a scoff before he slowly turns around, blue eyes staring straight at me.

  "I shouldn't have to apologise, you ran into me."

  "It was an accident, I'm human." I protest, ignoring the nerves building in my stomach from being underneath his intense gaze.

  "Manners don't cost a penny Jake Melvin." I scold him, attempting to walk ahead of him in a huff. The pain in my sides makes that impossible and t
o my dismay, I have to slow down.

  "Whatever you say Emily Wentworth." Jake mimics me, placing the cigarette inside his mouth and lighting it. I grimace and take a step away from him.

  "You're extremely annoying," I mumble under my breath which earns a smug smile from Jake. He blows the smoke out in my direction and I immediately begin to choke on it. His laughter fills the air as he walks off, leaving me shooting daggers in his direction.

  *****

  I can't numb the pain, the limp when I walk is so obvious. I swallow two painkillers and lean against the back of the chair, waiting for them to take effect. I decide to arrive early so I can sit down in class without anyone noticing my discomfort. I managed to clean up the cut on the side of my head and it's now disguised cleverly with my hair. My stomach is still pulsing from the pain, every little movement causes my eyes to flutter shut and my head to spin with dizziness.

  I groan and place my head on the desk, waiting for the room to stop spinning. The class door opens and a few of my classmates enter,

  shooting an awkward look my way. I quickly sit up, giving them a weak smile. I take out my books slowly and pretend to be fascinated with trigonometry. If I kept my head down, maybe no-one will notice the pain on my face or my eyes.

  A few minutes pass before the teacher walks in, greeting us all. I wave at Trish as she pulls up next to me, looking as fabulous as ever. Her blonde hair has been straightened and flowing down her shoulders. Her makeup is immaculately done and her nails are painted a bright blue. She is such a Barbie. She turns towards me, flashing me an award winning smile before frowning —

  "Are you feeling okay Emily? You look pale."

  "I'm fine Trish, just a little run down."

  She grimaces and nodded in agreement, leaning closer towards me.

  "Time of the month?" She whispers, sympathy flashing through her eyes. I smile weakly in response.

  "Yeah, I feel like I've been ran over, multiple times."

  It isn't the the truth but not entirely a lie either.

  *****