His Toxic Distraction

~3~

Savanna's POV

I remember walking through the door and hearing the headboard banging against the far wall, which told me uncle Mike was in a good mood.

Whenever uncle Mike brought home one of the women from his work, meant he'd gotten money to waste which was a plus for me because I could order anything I wanted when he was in a good mood.

The loud screams from the mysterious woman sent bad chills down my spine and walked to the other side of the house where my room sat quietly.

The moans and grunts from the reckless lovers down the hall faded away as I walked into the dark room and closed the door.

I didn't have a lot in my room and it didn't look close to what I presumed other girls my age would look like.

The bed was old and the white paint was peeling badly. There was an old oak desk of my father's I'd managed to keep and his chair.

There was a single cupboard for hanging and a small chest of drawers for folded laundry. I dropped the bag on the floor and sank down, face first into the soft mattress.

I curled into a little ball of sleepiness and dozed off slowly.

The next time I woke up to the yelling of uncle Mike and who I presumed was his recent lover.

"f**k you!"

"Shove it!"

The curses went on and on until I finally got out of bed and slipped on my pyjamas, a little tank top and matching shorts.

I opened the door slightly and peeked through as a beautiful young lady wearing way too little clothing stormed out and uncle Mike stood naked, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

He looked up and he caught me staring.

"Savanna!" He yelled and I quickly shut the door, standing behind it. I put my whole body weight into trying to keep it close.

With one hard push, the door flew open and I nearly flew against the wall.

Uncle Mike walked in, still with all his manhood hanging free and I swallowed, scared of what he might do.

He was furious and he pointed at me while he yelled.

"You have no right to eavesdrop on my conversations!"

Uncle Mike was in his mid forties with a bald head and lean figure from the drugs. He works out enough to keep away the fat from the alcohol. He was tall and had a strong hit.

I backed away, still laying on the floor, until my back hit the wall.

"I- I'm sorry." I said softly and he scowled.

"You should be, you little slut! Now get up here." He said and grabbed my arm with such a grip I knew I'd be left with a bruise.

As he roughly had me standing I looked down at my bare feet and he grabbed my hair in his hands, pulling my hair back so I looked at him.

"LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING w***e!" He yelled and tears welled up, i had the urge to cry in agony.

I began seeing stars and then he slapped me so hard that I fell to the floor again.

I tasted blood and I coughed, both hands on the floor to support me.

"I want you out of the house by seven. I'm having people over and don't want little girls ruining my business. Don't forget to clean up before you leave, I don't want one inch of dust. Do I make myself clear Savanna?" He said squatting down in front of me.

I couldn't find the words to speak and he grabbed my hair again, drawing my head back. I felt the blood from my split lip run down my chin and my cheek stung like a b***h from his slap.

Before I could think or do anything more, he forced my head down so quickly against the floor that everything went cold and black.

☆●☆●☆

I couldn't breath.

A foreign substance filled my lungs and I coughed, opening my eyes slightly. Red and orange, violent flames licked outside my doorway and black smoke fogged up my vision.

I felt light headed and my throat was dryer than sand paper. The world spun and a sharp pain shot through my skull. Probably a concussion.

I heard the loud thumps of boots and watched figures in yellow, baggy suits walk down the hallway.

They stopped and turned to me, laying lifeless on the floor of my room. One of them pulled a walkie talkie from its holster on his belt.

I couldn't hear what he was saying because I heard the loud thuds of each heartbeat. The two men made it to me and knelt by my side as I lay my head on the floor again.

"Miss, don't close your eyes." One of them said and I looked up as another man came in. I couldn't see him properly but as he knelt by my side I got a peek at him.

I saw his white dress shirt was coated I'm black from the smoke and I saw his eyes. He had dark brown eyes, at a quick glance you would've said they were black.

He looked at me and then at the two men, saying something to them that I couldn't hear. I suddenly felt sleepy and felt myself drift off into a deep unconscious sleep.

I remember the man caring me out of the house and I caught a glimpse of the firey grave I hoped my uncle was laying in. Heat radiated off of his body and the cool air stung my skin.

Distant conversations faded into silence as I slowly drifted off back into unconsciousness.

☆●☆●☆

I fluttered my eyes open and adjusted my eyes to light coming in from the open french doors. My throat burned but I could smell a faint ocean breeze and I looked around.

The room was too modern to be a hospital. The walls were painted light grey and there was a desk with what looked like stationery. There was a big cupboard with wood that matched the desk. The bed was three times bigger than my old one, filled with soft cushions and fluffy continental pillows in white and greys.

There was two doors and then the french doors which were open. My body felt sore and bruised.

Slowly, I placed my feet on the white carpet and looked down at the light grey nightdress I wore. It was spaghetti straps with a slight v-neck and went down nearly to my knees. There was a little white bow and I frowned.

How did I get into this? Where am I?

I slowly walked to the French doors and peeked over the curtains. I swore my eyes nearly popped from their sockets as I watched the scene before me.

The sun was just rising over the horizon beyond the calm ocean. The waves crashed against the rocks below and I walked slowly to the railing.

I felt the light spray of water from the water below and the stone from the terrace was cool underneath my feet.

The sound of a door opening and male voices made me snap my head towards the man who was probably a doctor. Dressed in a white coat and a stethoscope around his neck.

The voices went quiet when he noticed the empty bed.

He looked to me and another man entered he room. It was the man from the fire! He looked angry as the doctor made his way towards me.

"Good morning young lady." He said and I kept quiet, looking between the two men.

"You can trust me. Come, I want to take a look at you." He said and held out his hand.

I swallowed and gently placed my hand in his. We walked slowly inside again and he motioned me to sit.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and the young man grabbed the chair from the desk.

He sat down near to the bed and folded his arms. I saw the muscles in his arms bulge under the black dress shirt he wore.

He gently touched my arm where a dark bruise clouded my skin and I flinched. The man noticed this and then he stood up and examined my arm.

"Who hurt you like this?" He asked as the doctor wrote something on his clipboard. His voice was thick with foreign accent and I saw the darkness in his eyes. He looked dangerous and I looked at the doctor. As if sensing my discomfort, the doctor came over and touched the other man's arm.

"Sir, I don't think it's a good idea to flood her with questions right now. It is a good chance that this was abuse."

Sir?

The young man looked over me and I blushed in embarrassment as I saw him looking at the multiple scars.

"Is what the doctor saying true?" He asked softly and his hand lingered on mine.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He said and the concerned look on his strong face assured me that he was telling the truth. I nodded slowly.

He frowned and brought his hand up to my forehead, where he brushed a thumb over a sensitive spot. I hissed in pain and he jerked his hand away.

"How did you hit your head?" The doctor asked softly and the man squeezed my hand gently.

I opened my mouth and tried to speak but my throat was still sore.

"It's okay, take your time."

The man's hand was warm and I wondered what it would be like to give him a hug.

"M-my uncle w-was angry and b-banged my head a-against the floor. I don't r-remember what happened after that. O-only the fire a-and y-you." I said and looked at the man. His eyes were dark but his face was straight.

"A mild concussion. Do you feel any pain?" The doctor asked.

"My h-head hurts a bit and my cheek. Uncle Mike slapped me and there was blood." I said softly.

"Your tooth cut pretty deep into your lip and I might need to put a few stitches in there for it to heal together." He said and I nodded.

"Well, that's all for today sir. I'll send you my results as soon as I can." The doctor said and nodded as he opened the door and left.

"Get some rest." The man said and I watched him as he began to head towards the door.

"T-thank you f-for saving m-me, sir." I said softly and he turned to me with a small smile.

"Please, call me Zoran."