Chapter Thirty-Three

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Angelica Winter's POV

The thoughts won't stop.

Ever since I saw my father, my head won't stop filling with terrible things.

It's like I have no control over myself.

When I looked at him, all I saw was red, and I knew what I was doing, but I just couldn't stop. I don't even feel guilty. I think that's the worst part of it all.

"Hey, beautiful," I felt a hand cup my cheek and I opened my eyes, squinting up at the man before slowly realizing it was Axel, "do you think you'll be okay on your own? I'll only be gone twenty minutes at most."

I shook my head frantically, "n-no! He will hurt me, he's going to hurt me, you can't leave. Take me with you," I breathed, throwing myself into his hold.

*

"Hey, sweetie," my mother smiled warmly, setting her keys down onto the hook and sliding her shoes off. She crouched down and I grinned up at her, closing the distance between us and throwing my arms around her with a giggle.

"What did you and your dad do today?" She asked, squeezing me tightly then leaning back. She continued to smile, lightly pinching my cheek, "did you have fun?"

I frowned at the reminder, shaking my head, "he's been in your guys' room all day. I think he keeps hurting himself because he keeps making loud noises. I tried to check but the door was locked. I hope he's okay."

Her eyebrows furrowed and her smile faltered, "don't worry, I'll make sure he's okay, alright?" She stood up and grabbed my hand, "come on."

We walked down the hallway, nearing the bedroom where I heard my father groaning and grunting.

"See, mommy! He's hurt!" I whimpered, looking up at her and her face turned cold.

"That fucking bastard," she breathed, completely oblivious to my presence.

I felt her release my hand and stomp up to the door, kicking it in with a loud bang and revealing what was going on behind it.

My father was with a woman I've never seen before, and they were both under the covers shielding themselves.

"Who the fuck is she? What the fuck?" My mother screamed. I stood frozen in the hallway, watching my father grab his pants from the floor next to the bed and slip them on beneath the blankets.

What's going on?

He jumped out of bed and rushed up to my mother, halting in his tracks when she raised her hand and demanded him to stay away.

"I just got home two days ago from overseas and this is how you welcome me? Two days, Ryan! How long have you been fucking her?" She spat, her words filled with so much more anger than I've ever heard.

He opened his mouth then closed it, and the woman wrapped the bedsheets around her body before dashing out the room. She passed me and stumbled, widening her eyes with a gasp upon seeing me hiding next to the doorway with teary eyes.

My mother has never screamed like this before.

I'm scared.

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