Page 74 of Ruin Me Gently

She just walked inside, the door clicking shut behind her.

And that was it.

No‘goodnight, Mr. Stalker.’

No ‘are you coming in to murder me?’

No ‘fuck off, creep.’

Just silence. Just nothing.

I stood there, staring at the door, my fists clenching and unclenching, my mind running in circles.

Shit.

I’d done it.

I’d ruined it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Whiskey.

Stale cigarettes.

Sweat.

The smell slams into me before his boot does.

A blinding flash of pain, my ribs fold, my lungs seize.

I can’t breathe.

Another kick. This one’s harder.

“Stop! Please! Stop!”

He’s laughing at me. Why’s he laughing at me?

Another blow makes my skull rattle.

The taste of pennies floods my mouth.

Darkness pulses. The walls are breathing. The shadows twist and stretch around me.

“Little crybaby,” he spits. “Always whining. Always crying.”

Another kick and my body splits in two.

Vomit and blood dribble onto the dirty linoleum.

“Look at me,” he slurs. “Look. At. Me.”

My head’s yanked by an invisible chain.

She’s stood there.

“Mom,” I croak.

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