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<b>Dear Mister Greenwald</b>
folder
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
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778
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
778
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Here to Protect You
Dear Mister Greenwald
An original story by Brianna
Disclaimer: All of the characters in this story have been created by me to assist the progression of this interesting romance.
Warning: NC-17 for rape/incest, language, sexual content, violence, and brutality.
Summary: “Dear Mister Greenwald” is a story of a girl, Danielle Smith that finds herself being under the care of Jonathon Hugh Greenwald the richest and most handsome man in the town. After being through quite an uncompromising situation with her father, Jonathon takes her in his home and their love sprouts from witty remarks and sarcastic flirts. Of course, with every love there is trial and obstacle; when a certain girl comes into play with the help of a unrequiented love of Danielle's, will the new lovers be able to withstand the challenges that await them?
Chapter One: Here to Protect You
I laid my eyes on Jonathon Hugh Greenwald on December 23rd 1916 at an annual Christmas party held at the old Baker’s house at the far end of town. The beauty of it all was that Jonathon looked right back at me with a smile that stopped my heart mid beat. His eyes graced my vision with a taint of mischief. All the while, I held my breath and nodded my head along with the continuing conversation I held with Thomas Baker, the Baker’s eldest son.
It had been long since known that Thomas wanted nothing more than my hand in marriage. However, try as he might I would never turn my gaze to him as I was now doing to Jonathon from across the room.
Jonathon was ten years my senior, but his face held such handsome features that God himself could have not created better of a man than what was Jonathon. Jonathon, with his dark brown hair and dazzling sapphire blue eyes, took all but one look to have me under his spell.
“Danielle? Are you quite alright?” Thomas was gazing at me with a confused eyebrow. His mouth curved again into words, but I was lost in the thought of Jonathon. I could not quite grasp what he said the second time he spoke, but I responded nonetheless.
“Ah, yes Thomas. I apologize, for I was in my own mind and not quite focused,” I said with a simple smile masking my gaze for the man beyond Thomas.
“No matter dear Danielle. Shall we take a walk this night?” Thomas looked at me with a small smile that spoke of his true intent. I did not want to take a walk with him for I knew that he would ask me what I could not answer him; how was I to tell him that I did not favor him so? It was not in my nature to resort to rude gestures.
“Another night, Thomas. I find that my head will not allow for tonight’s weather and so I must decline.” I turned and walked away from the man that had quested for my hand for the past three years. Ever since I was fourteen years of age, he had tried to steal my heart. Yet, try as he might, I never turned my eyes to him.
I saw Jonathon turn to me from the corner of my eye. His eyes focused on me and he traveled the small distance between us to meet me where I stood. Finding my hand, he placed a simple but breath-taking kiss on the top of it, bowing his body towards mine.
“Forgive my forwardness my lady, but it seems that your beauty has taken me by surprise. Why is it that a dove such as you is without a handsome man at her side this night?” His body rose to his six-feet and three-inch height, positively towering over my measly five-foot five-inches. The shadows contorted his handsome face.
“Well, it is not odd sir to find myself without a man by my side, for these days men in question are hard to find.” My answer seemed somewhat casual, but the bite did give off a slight disgust that I harbored for the so called men in this small town. “Of course, if I were to find such a man that could be indicative of what true men should be, I might take course to make sure that he is by my side.”
“It is without a doubt you would, dove. I would not think otherwise that you would bring any man to his knees, hoping to bring those emerald eyes to meet theirs.” His tone was soft, almost as if he was withdrawn in his speech. Though the conversation was pleasant, his compliments held no real spice as did his features. He spoke poems, but his words could not turn my eyes to see him in any real light. It could be considered quite blind in opinion that as he spoke I found myself withdrawing from him, for the way he spoke he began to change into a malevolent force drawing me to fall under a deep spell. I was not one to fall easily, so I withdrew.
“What of these pet names you have drawn for me? Have I not a name, sir?”
“As sure as the day you do, my lady, but you have yet to whisper that name in my awaiting ear. I fear that our meeting has not yet brought us to name giving.” He smirked, smug in his obvious win. He was right; we never truly brought names into the conversation. However, I was not one to lose easily, so my retort was a sour as a green apple.
“Had you approached me in the right way, sir, I would have introduced myself; name and status would have been addressed immediately after bowing politely. However, as it seems your forward nature caught the better of you, you have forgotten your manners and skipped names getting completely engrossed in compliments.” I was now the one looking smug. His face had dropped, and he looked awe-stricken at my sharp tongue. Not many women would have spoken so sharp to a man of his stature.
Jonathon was one of the most well-mannered, rich men in the town. Having moved here with the riches he received from his passing father, he built a small business down the road from the city hall. It soon grew to several square-feet as well as the clientele. He had a huge house built just outside the town in which everyone day after day talked about; the beauty of the house alone was enough to have every woman in town after his heart. Not to mention his riches, he was one of the most handsome men in the entire continent. He clearly was favored in the Lord’s eyes since his riches outweighed the towns together and his handsomeness surpassed all others.
I should be so lucky to have him complimenting my beauty; however, my tongue often gets the better of me and I move to push away the men I find attractive. Who was to know that Jonathon only said these sweet nothings to every girl in the town? I had seen how he spoke with Amber Jane Baker during the night. Her laughter alone was irritating. She would feign complete engrossment in what he spoke of and laugh sweetly in his ear when she flirted.
Jonathon looked as if he was about to speak when none other than Amber Jane Baker came colliding into his side with her irritating laughter. She held tightly to his arm and smoothed over the coat that clung to his obviously well-built bicep arms.
“Oh Johnny! Forgive my clumsiness. It seems that my feet have forgotten how to walk properly. Will you help me to my room at the top floor, for I fear I shall fall down the steps without a strong arm to hold me up…”
Her blunt hint had the inside jealously well up inside of me. How could she be as forward as to practically invite Jonathon to her room without a passing thought? It appalled me to think she could be as easy as this with any man that caught her eye.
I rolled my eyes in response, taking it as my hint to leave. As I was just about to turn away, I felt a hand on my arm and was turned to look at those intoxicating sapphire blue eyes once more.
“I will be back in a moment, dove. After I settle little Miss Amber in her room, I shall find out what your name is and give you mine.” Hah, I thought simply. As if no one knew what his name was. Anyone in their right mind learned his name as soon as they could. If they referred to him as such, then they would have a chance at possibly getting something out of him.
Amber made a pouting sound and clung to Jonathon. “I am not a little girl Jonathon; I am a woman in need of a man this night. Please stay with me,” she whispered but not quietly enough for me not to hear. I knew that having me listen was part of her plan; she was always upset with me for having been born more endowed then she was. I cannot help it if I was gifted with a more curved body then that of hers. While her breasts were small, mine were like melons, ripe in their round structure. While she was a slight bit heavier, I was skinny and had a toned stomach.
Jonathon seemed to contemplating what Amber had spoken. I found that I could no longer hold my tongue, “As it seems that you have women, if you can call Miss Baker that, falling at your feet just to have you at their side, I will take my leave; it is late and I am afraid that I have grown tired of this atmosphere. I will say good night to you sir, for you shall be no longer in need of my conversation. Miss Baker has made it clear that this night no longer has use for words.” Before he could speak a word, I turned on my heels and left through the front door. I was positively enraged with Amber, knowing that it had been her plan for me to leave. I was not one to give in easily, but no man in my mind was worth fighting over.
----
Morning broke through the valley hitting street after street with its bothersome rays. Evident that the night had left not only a headache, but an aching belly, I kept to my room. I could not stop thinking about Jonathon’s eyes and smile. He had emaciated me into my thoughts from the moment I reached home.
I could hear the movement of the servants at the first floor, going about their duties and as was I to go about mine. I rose from my bed though I did not wish to. How could I even carry out my errands when my head throbbed like a pulsating heart? It left me vulnerable and easily irritable. If I was to run into Amber, I would not be able to hold my temper. She had often been the result of my loss of temper, but every time I lost my temper, harsh repremandment came with a lash of my father’s belt. The scars on my back told truth of how many times I had disobeyed him, and how my temper often got the better of me.
My back was one of my deepest secrets. No one except my father and the servants knew about the scars I harbored. The deep lashes where the belt had torn through layer and layer of skin told story of my hard punishment. I cried every time the lashing occurred; never had the punishment become numb. Still, my father often lashed me twice a week as a forewarning to hold my tongue.
The door clashed open. I knew all too well what my father’s anger came from. Last night, my tongue went off and Amber knew of my father’s temper, so she would always tell when I lashed out at her; even sometimes she would go as far as to make up lies to get me punished.
I felt my body quiver under his gaze. His brilliantly violent eyes had me cowering in fear. He always knew how to show me when he was angry with me. I could tell that this time it was more anger than he had ever felt.
“What did you say in the presence of Jonathon Greenwald, Danielle?!” He moved quickly to me, pressing me hard against the back of the wall. My head hit the hard stone and already I could feel the headache worsen. He began to undo his belt, but this time, he did not remove it. I looked at him with more fear than I had had in years. This had happened only once before and I do not remember what had occurred after his pressed me against the bed when I was five years of age.
“Forgive me father! I forgot myself. Please….p-please forgive me,” I said the tears streaming from my eyes as I begged without remorse of how pathetic I sounded. “Please father, I was mistaken and did not know of who I was speaking in front of…”
“Lies! You knew all too well who you were speaking with Danielle. You will pay for lying bold face to me, child.” He never called me child. The only time he had called me such was when I was five, right before…Oh Lord.
He pulled me away from the wall and threw me against the bed. When he began to untuck his shirt and pull away at the zipper of his pants, my breathing increased ten-folds. I knew what he was about to do now. I felt fresh hot stream of bitter salt tears leave my eyes. I knew what he was going to do.
He pressed me down with my hands held above my head. I could only cry out pathetic pleas for him to stop, but my attempts were futile. I would never redirect him from course when his temper got the better of him. I never had once been able to successfully convince him not to punish me. I could feel him pull my overdress away from my thighs and slip it up over my pelvis. He rid me of my undergarments and pulled out his…oh please let this be a nightmare. I cried out as the first thrust came into me like a fire. I felt the sheer feeling of being torn from the inside out and screamed my pain.
He slapped me hard against my face as I did so. “You will hold your screams, child. I will teach you not to speak with such a sharp tongue in front of Mister Greenwald, you worthless daughter!” He thrust once more into me, his movement deliberate to bring pain. My body arched and I bit my lip as to not cry out. I felt the tears stream faster than they ever had before down my face. It hurt with a thousand fires of hell, and what made it worse was I knew that if I was to ever do it again, he would do the same.
When he had finished, he pulled his clothes on and sneered down at me. After he had left the room, I broke down into tears. My body convulsed in my frantic positions. I could not breathe and I felt the only way I could escape this nightmare was to take my own life. I felt the raw pain between my thighs, and knew the hot liquid flowing from there was blood. I cried out at the thought; he had done this when I was younger, but I had blocked it out. Now that it happened again, I realize how badly it had hurt the first time and how it had not changed this time around.
I pulled the blankets to my face and cried into their soft embrace. I could not live like this; live in fear that my father would once again take me violently and leave me to wallow in my own sorrow. He would probably be relieved if I took my own life.
“Mister Greenwald! Please do not go up there; my daughter is sleeping. Come back tomorrow, she will feel better by then.” I could hear my father’s voice. He was frantic and I knew why now hearing the booming voice of Jonathon from the stairs.
“I heard cries, Mister Smith; she sounds as if she is in a great amount of pain and must be admitted to the doctor. I must see her as I am cause for her late night.” He was at my door now. I could hear the turn of the knob and knew that the lashing this night would be worse then I had ever been given. Why was I forced to live in fear?
“Dear Lord,” I heard him whisper as I knew he saw the blood now seeping from between my legs. “W-what….has…” his voice broke off as a pound of his fist hit the door. I could hear my father’s stuttering voice try to begin to explain. I could not turn to look at them. I was ashamed of what had happened and what Jonathon was now seeing.
“She…she disobeyed me,” my father said in his pathetic defense. I could hear the fear in his voice and I was happy for it. It was the first time I had heard my father so fearful. I wanted to turn to see his face and reactions, hoping that he was showing some of the same that I showed when he pushed me into the wall and then to the bed. The memory of it had me crying once more.
The door slammed shut and I could feel a body sit at the bed. I was pulled into a strong embrace. I felt the tears pull away from my eyes more violently this time. I could not feel between my legs; it was so numb.
“Shh, he will not hurt you anymore,” he said in a soft voice. “I will have him put into jail for what he has done to you.” The shaking anger was prevalent in his voice, but as to why he was so angry, I would never know. He spoke once more, but this time placing a kiss to my head. “You will come to live with me and I vow this moment that I will protect you for as long as we both live.”
An original story by Brianna
Disclaimer: All of the characters in this story have been created by me to assist the progression of this interesting romance.
Warning: NC-17 for rape/incest, language, sexual content, violence, and brutality.
Summary: “Dear Mister Greenwald” is a story of a girl, Danielle Smith that finds herself being under the care of Jonathon Hugh Greenwald the richest and most handsome man in the town. After being through quite an uncompromising situation with her father, Jonathon takes her in his home and their love sprouts from witty remarks and sarcastic flirts. Of course, with every love there is trial and obstacle; when a certain girl comes into play with the help of a unrequiented love of Danielle's, will the new lovers be able to withstand the challenges that await them?
Chapter One: Here to Protect You
I laid my eyes on Jonathon Hugh Greenwald on December 23rd 1916 at an annual Christmas party held at the old Baker’s house at the far end of town. The beauty of it all was that Jonathon looked right back at me with a smile that stopped my heart mid beat. His eyes graced my vision with a taint of mischief. All the while, I held my breath and nodded my head along with the continuing conversation I held with Thomas Baker, the Baker’s eldest son.
It had been long since known that Thomas wanted nothing more than my hand in marriage. However, try as he might I would never turn my gaze to him as I was now doing to Jonathon from across the room.
Jonathon was ten years my senior, but his face held such handsome features that God himself could have not created better of a man than what was Jonathon. Jonathon, with his dark brown hair and dazzling sapphire blue eyes, took all but one look to have me under his spell.
“Danielle? Are you quite alright?” Thomas was gazing at me with a confused eyebrow. His mouth curved again into words, but I was lost in the thought of Jonathon. I could not quite grasp what he said the second time he spoke, but I responded nonetheless.
“Ah, yes Thomas. I apologize, for I was in my own mind and not quite focused,” I said with a simple smile masking my gaze for the man beyond Thomas.
“No matter dear Danielle. Shall we take a walk this night?” Thomas looked at me with a small smile that spoke of his true intent. I did not want to take a walk with him for I knew that he would ask me what I could not answer him; how was I to tell him that I did not favor him so? It was not in my nature to resort to rude gestures.
“Another night, Thomas. I find that my head will not allow for tonight’s weather and so I must decline.” I turned and walked away from the man that had quested for my hand for the past three years. Ever since I was fourteen years of age, he had tried to steal my heart. Yet, try as he might, I never turned my eyes to him.
I saw Jonathon turn to me from the corner of my eye. His eyes focused on me and he traveled the small distance between us to meet me where I stood. Finding my hand, he placed a simple but breath-taking kiss on the top of it, bowing his body towards mine.
“Forgive my forwardness my lady, but it seems that your beauty has taken me by surprise. Why is it that a dove such as you is without a handsome man at her side this night?” His body rose to his six-feet and three-inch height, positively towering over my measly five-foot five-inches. The shadows contorted his handsome face.
“Well, it is not odd sir to find myself without a man by my side, for these days men in question are hard to find.” My answer seemed somewhat casual, but the bite did give off a slight disgust that I harbored for the so called men in this small town. “Of course, if I were to find such a man that could be indicative of what true men should be, I might take course to make sure that he is by my side.”
“It is without a doubt you would, dove. I would not think otherwise that you would bring any man to his knees, hoping to bring those emerald eyes to meet theirs.” His tone was soft, almost as if he was withdrawn in his speech. Though the conversation was pleasant, his compliments held no real spice as did his features. He spoke poems, but his words could not turn my eyes to see him in any real light. It could be considered quite blind in opinion that as he spoke I found myself withdrawing from him, for the way he spoke he began to change into a malevolent force drawing me to fall under a deep spell. I was not one to fall easily, so I withdrew.
“What of these pet names you have drawn for me? Have I not a name, sir?”
“As sure as the day you do, my lady, but you have yet to whisper that name in my awaiting ear. I fear that our meeting has not yet brought us to name giving.” He smirked, smug in his obvious win. He was right; we never truly brought names into the conversation. However, I was not one to lose easily, so my retort was a sour as a green apple.
“Had you approached me in the right way, sir, I would have introduced myself; name and status would have been addressed immediately after bowing politely. However, as it seems your forward nature caught the better of you, you have forgotten your manners and skipped names getting completely engrossed in compliments.” I was now the one looking smug. His face had dropped, and he looked awe-stricken at my sharp tongue. Not many women would have spoken so sharp to a man of his stature.
Jonathon was one of the most well-mannered, rich men in the town. Having moved here with the riches he received from his passing father, he built a small business down the road from the city hall. It soon grew to several square-feet as well as the clientele. He had a huge house built just outside the town in which everyone day after day talked about; the beauty of the house alone was enough to have every woman in town after his heart. Not to mention his riches, he was one of the most handsome men in the entire continent. He clearly was favored in the Lord’s eyes since his riches outweighed the towns together and his handsomeness surpassed all others.
I should be so lucky to have him complimenting my beauty; however, my tongue often gets the better of me and I move to push away the men I find attractive. Who was to know that Jonathon only said these sweet nothings to every girl in the town? I had seen how he spoke with Amber Jane Baker during the night. Her laughter alone was irritating. She would feign complete engrossment in what he spoke of and laugh sweetly in his ear when she flirted.
Jonathon looked as if he was about to speak when none other than Amber Jane Baker came colliding into his side with her irritating laughter. She held tightly to his arm and smoothed over the coat that clung to his obviously well-built bicep arms.
“Oh Johnny! Forgive my clumsiness. It seems that my feet have forgotten how to walk properly. Will you help me to my room at the top floor, for I fear I shall fall down the steps without a strong arm to hold me up…”
Her blunt hint had the inside jealously well up inside of me. How could she be as forward as to practically invite Jonathon to her room without a passing thought? It appalled me to think she could be as easy as this with any man that caught her eye.
I rolled my eyes in response, taking it as my hint to leave. As I was just about to turn away, I felt a hand on my arm and was turned to look at those intoxicating sapphire blue eyes once more.
“I will be back in a moment, dove. After I settle little Miss Amber in her room, I shall find out what your name is and give you mine.” Hah, I thought simply. As if no one knew what his name was. Anyone in their right mind learned his name as soon as they could. If they referred to him as such, then they would have a chance at possibly getting something out of him.
Amber made a pouting sound and clung to Jonathon. “I am not a little girl Jonathon; I am a woman in need of a man this night. Please stay with me,” she whispered but not quietly enough for me not to hear. I knew that having me listen was part of her plan; she was always upset with me for having been born more endowed then she was. I cannot help it if I was gifted with a more curved body then that of hers. While her breasts were small, mine were like melons, ripe in their round structure. While she was a slight bit heavier, I was skinny and had a toned stomach.
Jonathon seemed to contemplating what Amber had spoken. I found that I could no longer hold my tongue, “As it seems that you have women, if you can call Miss Baker that, falling at your feet just to have you at their side, I will take my leave; it is late and I am afraid that I have grown tired of this atmosphere. I will say good night to you sir, for you shall be no longer in need of my conversation. Miss Baker has made it clear that this night no longer has use for words.” Before he could speak a word, I turned on my heels and left through the front door. I was positively enraged with Amber, knowing that it had been her plan for me to leave. I was not one to give in easily, but no man in my mind was worth fighting over.
----
Morning broke through the valley hitting street after street with its bothersome rays. Evident that the night had left not only a headache, but an aching belly, I kept to my room. I could not stop thinking about Jonathon’s eyes and smile. He had emaciated me into my thoughts from the moment I reached home.
I could hear the movement of the servants at the first floor, going about their duties and as was I to go about mine. I rose from my bed though I did not wish to. How could I even carry out my errands when my head throbbed like a pulsating heart? It left me vulnerable and easily irritable. If I was to run into Amber, I would not be able to hold my temper. She had often been the result of my loss of temper, but every time I lost my temper, harsh repremandment came with a lash of my father’s belt. The scars on my back told truth of how many times I had disobeyed him, and how my temper often got the better of me.
My back was one of my deepest secrets. No one except my father and the servants knew about the scars I harbored. The deep lashes where the belt had torn through layer and layer of skin told story of my hard punishment. I cried every time the lashing occurred; never had the punishment become numb. Still, my father often lashed me twice a week as a forewarning to hold my tongue.
The door clashed open. I knew all too well what my father’s anger came from. Last night, my tongue went off and Amber knew of my father’s temper, so she would always tell when I lashed out at her; even sometimes she would go as far as to make up lies to get me punished.
I felt my body quiver under his gaze. His brilliantly violent eyes had me cowering in fear. He always knew how to show me when he was angry with me. I could tell that this time it was more anger than he had ever felt.
“What did you say in the presence of Jonathon Greenwald, Danielle?!” He moved quickly to me, pressing me hard against the back of the wall. My head hit the hard stone and already I could feel the headache worsen. He began to undo his belt, but this time, he did not remove it. I looked at him with more fear than I had had in years. This had happened only once before and I do not remember what had occurred after his pressed me against the bed when I was five years of age.
“Forgive me father! I forgot myself. Please….p-please forgive me,” I said the tears streaming from my eyes as I begged without remorse of how pathetic I sounded. “Please father, I was mistaken and did not know of who I was speaking in front of…”
“Lies! You knew all too well who you were speaking with Danielle. You will pay for lying bold face to me, child.” He never called me child. The only time he had called me such was when I was five, right before…Oh Lord.
He pulled me away from the wall and threw me against the bed. When he began to untuck his shirt and pull away at the zipper of his pants, my breathing increased ten-folds. I knew what he was about to do now. I felt fresh hot stream of bitter salt tears leave my eyes. I knew what he was going to do.
He pressed me down with my hands held above my head. I could only cry out pathetic pleas for him to stop, but my attempts were futile. I would never redirect him from course when his temper got the better of him. I never had once been able to successfully convince him not to punish me. I could feel him pull my overdress away from my thighs and slip it up over my pelvis. He rid me of my undergarments and pulled out his…oh please let this be a nightmare. I cried out as the first thrust came into me like a fire. I felt the sheer feeling of being torn from the inside out and screamed my pain.
He slapped me hard against my face as I did so. “You will hold your screams, child. I will teach you not to speak with such a sharp tongue in front of Mister Greenwald, you worthless daughter!” He thrust once more into me, his movement deliberate to bring pain. My body arched and I bit my lip as to not cry out. I felt the tears stream faster than they ever had before down my face. It hurt with a thousand fires of hell, and what made it worse was I knew that if I was to ever do it again, he would do the same.
When he had finished, he pulled his clothes on and sneered down at me. After he had left the room, I broke down into tears. My body convulsed in my frantic positions. I could not breathe and I felt the only way I could escape this nightmare was to take my own life. I felt the raw pain between my thighs, and knew the hot liquid flowing from there was blood. I cried out at the thought; he had done this when I was younger, but I had blocked it out. Now that it happened again, I realize how badly it had hurt the first time and how it had not changed this time around.
I pulled the blankets to my face and cried into their soft embrace. I could not live like this; live in fear that my father would once again take me violently and leave me to wallow in my own sorrow. He would probably be relieved if I took my own life.
“Mister Greenwald! Please do not go up there; my daughter is sleeping. Come back tomorrow, she will feel better by then.” I could hear my father’s voice. He was frantic and I knew why now hearing the booming voice of Jonathon from the stairs.
“I heard cries, Mister Smith; she sounds as if she is in a great amount of pain and must be admitted to the doctor. I must see her as I am cause for her late night.” He was at my door now. I could hear the turn of the knob and knew that the lashing this night would be worse then I had ever been given. Why was I forced to live in fear?
“Dear Lord,” I heard him whisper as I knew he saw the blood now seeping from between my legs. “W-what….has…” his voice broke off as a pound of his fist hit the door. I could hear my father’s stuttering voice try to begin to explain. I could not turn to look at them. I was ashamed of what had happened and what Jonathon was now seeing.
“She…she disobeyed me,” my father said in his pathetic defense. I could hear the fear in his voice and I was happy for it. It was the first time I had heard my father so fearful. I wanted to turn to see his face and reactions, hoping that he was showing some of the same that I showed when he pushed me into the wall and then to the bed. The memory of it had me crying once more.
The door slammed shut and I could feel a body sit at the bed. I was pulled into a strong embrace. I felt the tears pull away from my eyes more violently this time. I could not feel between my legs; it was so numb.
“Shh, he will not hurt you anymore,” he said in a soft voice. “I will have him put into jail for what he has done to you.” The shaking anger was prevalent in his voice, but as to why he was so angry, I would never know. He spoke once more, but this time placing a kiss to my head. “You will come to live with me and I vow this moment that I will protect you for as long as we both live.”