Carmen is stuck in an abusive relationship and can't seem to escape and is starting to lose all hope.
Until one night she finds herself beaten and half unconscious in the middle of the road. That's when she meets Greyson.
Greyson is an undergroun...
" Come on, love. Let's get cleaned up." he said, right as I was starting to fall asleep.
" Nuh uh," I whined as I snuggled further into him.
He chuckled before standing up and carrying me to the bathroom. I clung to him like a koala," I've got you, love.".
I heard the bath turn on and after a few minutes I detached myself from him and climbed in, he got in behind me. I was now sitting between his legs with my back to his chest and his chin resting on top of my head.
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" You're so perfect." he whispered in my ear.
He placed another kiss on my head and tightened his hold on me.
" Love?" I cooed in response, " What's your favorite food?"
" What?" not sure what I was expecting but it wasn't that.
" What's your favorite food?" he repeated.
" Chocolate chip cookies. What's yours?"
" Chocolate chip cookies." he smiled down at me, " My mom made really good chocolate chip cookies." his smile widened as he thought about his mother.
" I miss her." he said, " She may not have been the best mother but at least she tried. There were a lot of bad moment but there were also good moments and that's how I try to remember her. I try to just remember the good." he was now staring at the wall, a look of sadness took over his face as he talked about his mother.
" I know it's hard, I know the pain of missing them never goes away but at least it gets easier. I think it's good to remember the good parts. Because I feel like so many people just focus on the bad. She may not have been the best but she loved you, I can tell by the way you talk about her, she cared about you a lot." I cupped his cheek and turned him to face me, he bent down and kissed me.
" Can I ask you a question?" he gently stroked my arm with his thumb.
" Sure."
" What about your parents? You never talk about them." my breath hitched and my body noticeably tensed.
" They're dead, they died when I was 15." I focused my attention on his thumb that was still stroking my arm.
" How'd they die?"
" They were killed." my voice was toneless, I hate talking about them, it's easier to just forget.
" Did they ever catch the guy that did it?" he asked.
