Family Business

Chapter 21.

If you are re(re)-reading FB, you'll remember this is from the original version. :) I'm working on combining both drafts to the newest edition of my book. Sorry for the delayed update this weekend, I was in NYC 

Two hands close around my throat and wrists, locking me into place. I was helpless as hands began to touch my body against my will; grabbing, pinching, and rubbing. I fought but the grip around my throat tightened and I could not breathe. Xander's face comes into view, that dark tint of arousal in his eye. I felt helpless as he reached out, gently thumbing my cheek. The touch sent a tremor through my entire body. He reached for his tie and I knew all too well what was next. I scream and sit up in bed, soaked in sweat. My throat was raw.

I look around, taking a moment to process where I was. I was in my home in witness protection. Xander could not find me here. I lay clutch the sheets to my chest, my hands shaking as I look around my darkened room. The edges of my curtains showed the beginnings of dawn's soft pink hues. I draw in a shaky breath. Even after a month of knowing that I was safe, I still was plagued by nightmares every night. The nightmares are all the same, some stopping before my assault, some continuing. His friends, Papà's enemies, were occasionally in my dreams but more often than not, it was him. It was an interesting feeling to have, pure terror. I had never experienced anything like it. The fear that Xander would come and take me back was crippling. Slowly, unfist the sheets and smooth the wrinkles down. I toss the blankets back, turning off my alarm. My heart was racing so I knew that there was no way that I would fall back asleep.

Like every morning, I rush to the bathroom and throw up. I had not eaten dinner last night so it was mostly liquid. I scowl at the contents of the toilet bowl before flushing it away. I wash my hands then brush my teeth before walking downstairs. I boil some water for tea before deciding to go on a run. My music blasts through a small speaker as I dress, putting on layers due to the chilly February air. I hum along to the tunes before putting my hair into a ponytail. After locking the door, my keys go into a secure pouch I wear on my person. Then, I leave the house. I do not feel safe enough wearing headphones so I carry my phone in my hand as I run. I take the small pathway at the end of my street, jogging in the woods. The sun slowly crept up and brought the trees to life. The deep browns became lighter browns and the sounds of animals waking up reached my ears. I jog for around 20 minutes before heading home, completing 4 miles in 35 minutes.

Zayn's car was parked behind mine and he climbs out as he sees me, holding up a bag from our favorite bagel shop. "I got you breakfast," He says, tossing me the bag.

I catch it, flashing him a grateful smile. "Thanks!" I open the bag and my eyes flutter with the warm doughy smell that wafts up at me. "Oh my gosh, I don't think I'll ever get over how yummy these are!"

He nods, following me to my front door. "They really are good. What are you doing today? Are you working?"

"Don't you have a lacrosse game?" I ask, raising my eyebrows at him. Zayn coached at the high school after work usually. "Against PB?"

"Oh right!" His hand slaps his forehead as he registers. Normally, Joe's provides food for the snack-shack at the high school; this means all hands on deck at the restaurant, plus filling our normal orders. "So you're working all day?" He huffs, locking the door behind me as we walk inside.

"That's what you get for getting me a job," I say teasingly, walking into the kitchen.

Zayn laughs deeply, shaking his head. "I suppose it is." I take out a cutting board and knife after washing my hands in the sink. Zayn washes his in the bathroom before cutting the bagels for me. "Did you sleep well?" He asks, sliding two halves of a cinnamon raisin bagel to me on some pastel plates that were donated by one of my regulars at the diner.