Protect Me: Oakville Series:Book Three Read Online Free

making sure everything is just like Ray likes it. For dinner, I prepare lasagna with a salad and garlic bread — his favorite. I don’t dare do anything to set him off again. I have no idea what kind of mood he’ll be in once he gets home and I sure as hell am not going to make it worse. The closer it gets to him coming home, the more nervous I become. My ribs still ache with every move I make and no amount of makeup will allow me to cover up the bruises on my face.
    I’m just putting dinner on the table when I hear his truck pull in the driveway. Trembles wrack my body, only getting worse when the front door opens. Ray comes into the dining room holding a huge bouquet of pink roses and wearing a smile on his face. What the fuck am I missing here? I want to throw up and he’s all happy and smiling like it’s just another normal day. He walks up to me and presses his lips against my cheek. My whole body tenses, protesting his touch. He notices, but leaves it alone. He holds the flowers out to me and I immediately take them. Even though every fiber within me is telling me to chuck them in the trash, I pull out a vase and fill it with water before joining Ray at the table.
    “Dinner smells and looks great, Holly,” Ray compliments. I smile as best I can, trying to keep him happy.
    “Thank you. I know it’s your favorite.” I know I should’ve been gone when he came home. I know the chances this will happen again are high. But where would I go and how would I get there? I have no one to run to and no money to get me there even if I did. I’m stuck and he knows it.
     

    I ROLL over in my bed, pulling the pillow over my head to try to drown out the shouting coming from downstairs. My stomach twists into knots. Knots so tight I think my insides might burst at any moment. There’s no chance of escaping the sounds.
    “Why do you make me do this?” my father roars. Of course, there’s no reply from my mom. She knows anything more than reacting to the pain will only make things worse, so she takes every punch and kick in silence. This has been going on my whole life, but it used to be only once or twice a year. Lately, it’s all the time and worse than ever before. I don’t know how much more I can take. For sixteen years, I’ve been watching my dad beat my mom. As I got older, I started to intervene, which only caused him to turn on me. I’ve begged and pleaded with her to leave him, but she always has an excuse — her biggest being how much she loves him.
    So, here I lay, trying to make a choice. Do I stay up here knowing he’s down stairs using my mom like a punching bag or do I go downstairs to protect my mom and allow him to beat on me instead? My dad is shorter than I am and after a night of drinking, I could take him with one hand tied behind my back. But I still can’t bring myself to hit my own father, which has to make me all kinds of fucked up. This man beats on me and my mom and I don’t have the balls to hit him back. He still makes me feel like that little scared seven year old just trying to stop his mommy from being hurt. The same mommy who stays with the man who hurts her and her child. I’m always torn in two. I want to hate them both for the agony they’ve put me through for sixteen years. For not allowing me the happy childhood I deserved. At the same time, I love them. They’re my parents. I would rather take the beating than debate this dilemma. The beating is easier.
    My mom screams out in pain and I instantly react. I’ll always choose to protect her first, no matter the consequences. She used to be so happy and full of life. Now, after all these years of torture, she’s just a frightened shell of the woman she once was. He’s destroyed her. And they’ve destroyed me. If this is what it’s like to be in love, I’m never letting it happen to me. A man who thinks he has the right to do whatever he pleases to the woman he loves. A woman who will sit back and take the abuse, saying