Page 13 of Break

Shit. He only calls back to back when he’s drunk.

He likes to say that I’m ungrateful, that I’d be the worst person to reach out to if he was in trouble because I never answer the phone, and that thought lingers in my head. What if it’s police telling me he’s dead? What if it’s someone telling me that they found his phone but not him?

No, it’s better to know and be able to evade him. I’ve been doing it well for the last few years. I’ve used plenty of excuses, and whether he believes me or not, it’s kept him from knowing where I live. It’s kept him from knowing where I work. It’s kept him away.

I have to keep that up.

Answering the phone, I wait for him to talk, like always.

“You’re not being very sweet, Hope,” he snarls. “Refusing to answer the phone the first time. That’s bad, and you know what happens when you’rethisbad.”

I swallow as my throat tightens. “I was at work. I stepped away to call you back.”

“Sureyou did. You’re always ungrateful, only think about what you want and need, never what I want,” he says.

Don’t think about his wants. Ignore them. Don’t think about it. Don’t let yourself slip. Stay in the present.

“When are you gonna come visit me?” he says, his words slurring together and dropping off oddly.

My whole body chills and my stomach rolls, threatening to empty everything I just ate. I stand up and start heading back to the stadium. I may hate the guys, but they’re better than the monster who’s currently drunk dialing me.

“I miss my little girl. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you… touched you… held you…” He trails off, then groans softly.

My other hand balls into a fist, but the tremble won’t stop. “We talked about this. You’re not supposed to—”

“You are the child! I’m the adult. I give you an order and you obey!” he yells. “If you’re going to keep being bad, you know what’ll happen. If you raise your voice at me, if you run, if you… fight.”

I hang up and hurry to the stadium. My surroundings swirl, and when the stadium wall is beside me, I crouch down. I put my hand on the brick of the building and the smooth concrete under my feet. I’m here. I’m not in his house. I’m not where he can reach me.

He doesn’t know where I live. He doesn’t know where I work. I have a P.O. box in another town specifically for him.Because I know that if he gets me again, there’s no stopping him. I’ve tried that already.

My stomach tightens, and I close my eyes to stop the tears and the gag that try to bubble up my throat.

I went to the cops. I told them everything my dad did. I told him that there was evidence because Jaxon outed that. Knox even confirmed it. All the police had to do was look. I showed them the bruises on my wrists, showed them my diary, but the officer didn’t even open the cover.

The officer just looked at me and snorted. “Another teenager who doesn’t want to obey her father.”

“It’s not like that,” I tried to argue.

“What’s this?” Dimitri’s dad had walked in, taken one look at me, heard me say my dad was hurting me, that when he was drunk, he was too rough and I was constantly covering bruises since I was sure they wouldn’t believe that more was happening, and he’d shook his head. “Please. George is a good father. He might be a little rough, but he’s not a monster.”

I’d tried to tell him, but he’d just put me in his car.

On the way home, while I’d been crying, he stopped the car. I flinched away, sure he was going to hurt me, that his son had told him I’m a slut, that I’m easy, that I like older men and never say no, but instead, Dimitri’s dad turned around and glowered at me.

“Your dad’s been through enough. After your mom left him for someone else, he had to pick himself up and take care of you. He had to take care of everything, and he’s good to my boy, toKnox, to Jaxon. I’ve heard what a good man he is and what a brat you are.”

“I’m not lying!” I’d insisted.

He’d scoffed and shook his head at me. “I’m giving you a chance to walk back in and pretend like nothing happened. Keep this up, and I’ll make sure your father knows what you’re trying to do to his reputation, his career.”

If the police wouldn’t believe me about physical abuse, who would believe me about the rest? I didn’t even bring up what the guys had done. I didn’t bring up anything but… the truth, the gentlest part, and I felt like I’d been slapped for revealing that.

If I couldn’t go to the police, there was no hope. And even though the officer had promised not to tell my dad, he had, three days later.

My father had come home from the bar and made an ‘example of me’ all night. I hadn’t been able to go to school Monday, but that hadn’t stopped him from having Jaxon and Knox over for dinner.

Neither of them had commented on my long sleeves, my heavy makeup, my silence. Jaxon hadn’t goaded me that night. Knox had mocked me whenever my dad wasn’t around. I knew that they knew. They knew everything but still made my life hell, still blamed me.

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