I slept with the Bad Boy's Girl COMPLETED (Unedited)

Chapter 19

WARNING: Violent, bad language and upsetting nature will be a part of this chapter. If you are younger than 13, easily upset by violence or are the faint hearted type please skip this chapter if you decide to proceed, you do so at your own risk and if you do get to the end I hope you enjoy this chapter and the rest of the book and thankyou for reading my book.

(If you haven't read the previous chapter then please go back and read that one before continuing with this one as the first part will go over what happened last time but briefly. If you already have read the last chapter thank you and please enjoy this one.)

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Taylor's P.O.V

.....Pain throbs through my face and my head as my head bounces back from the hard wood floor. I struggle with my vision as it wavers from the blow then returns. I try turning around but he still has hold of my hair and brings my head back up from the floor as I see the floor move away and then come racing back towards me as he slams my head back into the floor. Blood starts to appear in a small dripping sequence which becomes heavier as he pulls me back up to knee level.

I ready myself for another blow but it doesn't come. Instead he picks me up - still by my hair, and pulls me to my feet. I stand but my feet can't seem to find the floor properly as they search for footing. My brain telling them to stand but my heart fighting back; telling them to give up - and right now there listening to my heart. I search for my phone but can't find it until I see it in it's final resting place, laying atop the wooden table which is placed next to the front door.

I know I have to reach it but he keeps a firm grip on my head - which is becoming sore from being continuously pulled and yanked, by his grubby hands.

I try walking towards it but I can't as he drags me up the stairs. I fight back as my heart races at where he could be taking me. My mind races; flickering too and thro between images of my childhood, to Patrick, to Mark laughing at us, to me writing the message on the tree, up until the day I said goodbye to Patrick - his face a picture of how I felt but worse. It hits me right then, right there. That second.

I hurt him.

I become stunned like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car. Feeling frozen to my spot but not for long as I lose my footing; he's stronger than me as my feet catch the edges of the stairs making me trip up as he drags me up them. I watch my room get closer and closer and my heart races further as images from last time flick like the pages of a book.

I feel my feet land on the soft carpeting of my room as he pushes me inside then comes in after me. I fall to the floor and try crawling away. He grabs my legs as I fight back, but it's no use. I feel my arms and legs burn as the friction from the carpet gives me carpet burns.

He picks me up and throws me onto the bed in one swift motion. My face plummits into the soft bedding but my pleasure and sense of security that I get from them is short lived. He turns me over and his face get's closer to mine. His lips are almost touching mine as I realise what he's trying to do. I spit in his face as he backs away cowering and hiding his eyes. He looks like a child for a moment which makes me pause but I run past him.

I'm not quick enough.

He grabs my foot and yanks it, the floor coming into contact with my face again but this time it really worries me. I hear a crack and a shooting pain throbs upwards then quickly disperses outwards from the bridge to the very top of my head.

I hear him laugh as he must have heard it too. He yanks my hair again and pulls me up then strides out of the room with me tugging behind. I see the bathroom and I instantly try to shake his grip off me. He warned me about this earlier and now I'm meeting my death.....