Dear Diary || Colby Brock X Reader

- Chapter 8 -

TW: Mentions of abuse

My mind was distracted the entire day, filled with images of Colby's naked body against mine... His lips latched to my neck... My hand subconsciously moved to the dark mark on the right side of my neck.

"Right Selena?" Kat's voice broke my train of thought, I blinked rapidly and quickly removed my hand from my neck.

"Um yeah.?" I replied, my face turning a pale pink. Sam laughed and shook his head from where he sat, holding the camera, across the table from Kat and I. Kat sighed dramatically, yanking my hand playfully, I groaned, despite the handcuffs being covered in fluff, after 7 hours of being yanked around my wrist was soar.

"Stop thinking about Colby." Sam teased, switching the camera off so we could eat.

"So he really said he wants that hickey left uncovered?" Kat questioned, leaning down to take a bite of spaghetti.

"Yes. Very attractively might I add." I replied, shooting Sam a playful glare before taking a bite of garlic bread.

My phone buzzed on the table beside me, I simply ignored it, my Father had always told me that it was very disrespectful to answer your phone when eating with other people.

"You gonna get that?" Sam asked between spoonfuls of soup, I looked up, taking a sip of water.

"No. Why would I?" I replied, confused by his question.

"What if it's Colby?" Kat grinned, rubbing her shoulder against mine.

"Then I'll respond when I'm done eating." I shrugged, returning to my food. Kat glanced up at Sam, both seemed confused.

"What? It's disrespectful to answer your phone at dinner." I said, looking up at them.

"Not really." Sam countered, he sounded concerned.

"Not with us at least." Kat added, placing her hand over mine. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion, my Father would test me like this all the time...

My phone buzzed from where it sat on the wooden table, I glanced at it quickly before looking back down at my plate of food.

"Well aren't you going to answer it?" A ruff voice questioned, slowly I looked up at my fathers' blue-grey eyes.

"It's disrespectful to answer my phone when eating with someone else." I replied, almost robotically. My father coughed ruffly, not bothering to cover his mouth.

"It's fine. Answer it." He said gruffly, waving his hand at me as he reached for a glass of water. I reached over to my phone quickly, hoping it would be one of my friends and not some useless app notification. I had barely typed in my passcode before the phone was ripped from my hands, I looked up just in time to see my fathers' hand come flying down on my cheek. The force of the blow sent my head into the table, I sat back up whimpering in pain, I rubbed my raw cheek, blood dripping from my nose.

"Never! Answer your phone when you're at the dinner table with others!" My father yelled, I looked up at him, tears stinging my eyes.

"Don't you dare cry!! You know better!" He shouted, slamming his fist on the table, he then returned to eating his dinner. I sat in silence, clenching my fist to hold back my tears that threatened to escape.