The Broken Angel

Chapter 9

Chapter 9: I'll Be Weak for One Day

Angelica's POV

A few weeks have passed since I had last seen Beck, not that I cared. In face, I was more happy without him here and having his constant stare follow me around. Unconsciously, I would still rub my earlobe from time to time.

Not only that, but our parents have finally seemed to calm down since our daring escape out the window. They haven't been beating us, well me, every time they see us. They still yell at us a lot, always using profanities whenever possible, but it's like they forgotten about us, and it's been Heaven so far.

And now Wes is starting to walk in front of me instead of behind me or next to me. He told me he was going to make good on his promise, and he's really trying to. So far, Wes has gotten a lot stronger than before. We were walking by a gym one day and it caught Wes' eye. He was immediately infatuated with the place and started watching the people closely, coping their moves.

He ended up catching the eye of one of the coaches and they offered to coach him, not for free of course. Wes has to do all the cleaning and locking up the building when everyone is done for the day. I would go in and help him a lot, but Wes always got mad at me for doing this, but I did it anyways. He was really determined to get stronger than he was and he has succeeded.

And the best news is that our offer on the house got accepted. We have to wait another week and two day before we can move, because they are finishing getting the previous tenants out of the house. Even Wes was getting excited about it now.

I walked into the kitchen, towards the fridge to get something to eat, and I never noticed someone behind me. When I turned around, I had crashed into someone. I gasped in surprise as I fell backwards. I looked up to see my father towering over me, beer rolling down his shirt, a now empty beer bottle in his hands.

He looked down at me and growled, "You f*****g nasty ass bitch." He threw the beer bottle down at my head, but it landed a few inches to the left of my head. I gasped for air as he kicked my stomach. My ribs had finally healed a few days ago, but the way things were going now, it was going to take another two and a half weeks to heal again.

My father kicked and punched me, repeatedly. I was covered in bruises by the time he was done with me. His breathing was ragged and uneven as he straightened his back. He stomped on my hand and I winced as he crushed my hand under his weight. I could hear the bone in my hand crack, but I didn't make a sound. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing my pain.

He moved his foot off my, now broken, hand and pushed me to the side with the tip of his boot to my ribcage. I rolled away in pain, and he opened the fridge door, pulling out another beer. He left me on the kitchen floor, without another glance.

Wes had walked into the room after our father left. The moment he caught a glimpse of me, his eyes widened and he ran over to me. Fear and worry were written all over his face and I hated making him worry because then he makes me worry because I know he'll try to do something stupid. And with his newly found confidence, I know he'll definitely try to do something.

"Angel." Wes said, sadly, as he looked over my body. I pushed my body up and flinched. My entire body ached, from head to toe, but I knew I could handle more pain if I needed to. Thankfully, they had given us a few weeks alone, so I had recovered and they weren't re-opening any wounds.

"I'm fine, Wesley." I said, smiling, trying to ease his worry. He looked at me like he was about to cry.

"I know you're not fine, Angel. You're telling me that you are because you don't want me to worry." Wes said, now crying. His voice was getting quieter with every word he spoke. He sounded like he was defeated.

"I promised you," he said. "I promised you that I would get stronger, but in the end, I still couldn't protect you from that monster. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Angel." He kept telling me he was sorry over and over again. I gave him a small smile, and pulled his head towards me, resting our foreheads together.

"Listen to me, Wesley." I said. "You are stronger and you do protect me. Sure, you may not be able to fight him off, and I don't want you too, but seeing you everyday, smiling, happy and unharmed, is what protects me. When you smile, I forget about my pain and I feel happy because I know that you're fine. If ever left me, I would wither away."

"Really?" he asked, sniffling as I nod.

"Really." I said, smiling. "Now, let me see those pearly whites." Wes smiled at me, face full of tears, and I laughed. "I have to go to work now." His smile fell and he started to shake his head.

"No, I don't think you should go to work like this." he said. "It might make things worse."

"We wouldn't survive very long if I missed any time at work, especially if I stayed home every time they did this to me." I said. I tried to push myself up, but a whimper escaped me as I realize that I couldn't. My father had definitely crushed my left hand. I'm not one hundred percent sure if he had broken it or not, but I was hoping it was just a sprain. Wes wrapped his arm around my waist and helped me get us.

"I' d hate to ask you this, little buddy, but can you help me today? I don't know how much I can do, but if you want to go with me to-"

He didn't even let me finish before agreeing to help me at work. "Anything for you, Sis." he said. I smiled as I ruffled his hair some. We snuck out the back door, trying to avoid another encounter with our father. I limped, with Wes holding some of my weight, to the diner.

We went in through the back, employee only entrance. I limped to my locker and pulled my apron on. "Here." Wes said, handing me the bottle of painkillers I kept in my locker.

Thankfully, we have a cousin who owns his own pharmacy that helps us out, because he knows the situation we are in because he was in it a few times before. Whenever I'm low and need more, I call him up and ask for more. I only use them when I have to work and in extreme pain, so I normally don't use them often.

I popped two pills into my mouth and drank some of the water Wes handed me. My shift doesn't start for another half an hour, so I was able to relax and wait for a little while before I had to start moving. I also wrapped my left hand in an ACE bandage, and held it close to me.

In that half an hour, both Jack and Rosa came back to see me. Rosa came first. She came in after hearing the door shut and saw me taking my pills. She brought some of the food from the kitchen in and made me eat, saying "you should never take pills on an empty stomach".

Jack came in a few minutes later because he forgot to take off his hat and had to put it away. He saw me and started to be way too nosy, and I wasn't in the mood to deal with him or anyone, so Wes was able to convince him to leave. Wes had to go with him, to try and keep him distracted and away from me.

And the worst part was, I was out of my foundation, so I couldn't cover the bruises on my face. I pulled my long sleeves down to cover my arms and put on one of those sick masks to cover majority of the bruising. Hopefully, people don't notice or ask about it.

I limped out of the back room and walked to my first table. "Hi, guys, how are you doing?" I asked. Two teenage girls sat in a booth, playing on their phones.

"Two salads and make it snappy." one of the girls commented, not bothering to look up from her phone. I was conflicted on how I felt about this. On one hand, I hated her tone and wanted to teach her proper manners, but on the other hand, she didn't look up at me to see my face, so she wasn't going to ask questions about it.

I turned around and froze. My blood ran cold as I stared at the figures in front of me, staring at me. Not only was Beck here for the first time in weeks, my father, who wasn't supposed to know about this place, was here. My father waved his fingers at me, smiling, while Beck glared at me, his eyes tracing my body, noticing the obvious difference.

And worse of all, they were currently sitting back-to-back.

What else was I supposed to do, other than run? I made sure to grab my brother, who was hiding behind Jack, during my flight, and shove us both into the locker room, locking the door behind us. I was planning on hiding out in here until I knew they both had left, but it seems like someone had other plans.

The doorknob juggled for a second before the person on the other side realized it was locked. I listened closely and I could head the sound of the boots walking away. I sighed before hugging Wes, who was panicking, pulling us over to the table to rest. I ripped off the stupid face mask as I sat down, pulling him into my lap.

"We're okay, baby." I said, kissing his head.

"He was here. Why was he here?" Wes kept asking himself. I have worked here for a little more than two years now, but not once had our father come here. Hell, he didn't even know I worked in this vicinity. He thought I was a free hooker.

So, how did he find us? Why is he here? Why was Beck here, on all days? Who was just at the door? Are they gone?

Before any more questions could pop into my head, the door swung open and we both jumped, expecting it to be our father standing on the other side. Well, it wasn't him. It was Beck standing there. And he looked furious.

He started to stomp towards us, but stopped when Wes jumped in front of me, his arms raised to protect me. A foot away from us, Beck glared at me, completely ignoring Wes' presences.

"What happened?" he growled at me. "Who did that to your face?"

"It's none of your damn business." I snapped at him. My body was coursing with fear and anger, but the harder I tried to keep it off my face, the more I felt like I was failing at it. I quickly grabbed Wes and pulled him closer to my body, just in case Beck tried anything, I could easily turn and take the beaten for Wes.

Beck's hand traveled so fast, I didn't even realize what was going on until he was gripping my chin between his thumb and his index finger, pulling my face a little closer. He also leaned in, so we were close enough to were our noses were only two inches apart.

"Listen to me, little girl, and listen good. I'm in the talking kind of mood right now, and I want to get to the bottom of this before I make my move. So, you better tell me what I want to know before I decide to throw my kindness out the window and force you to talk to me." Beck growled.

My eyes widened as I stared into his. I could see no kindness in this man's eyes; only death and destruction. I felt my mask start to break a little.

"Why do you care?" I asked, quietly. Beck stared at me for a moment, looking conflicted, before pushing my face back, roughly, and straightening up to his full height.

"Why? I care because you are mine. You are my property and nobody else can touch you." he growled again. My fury had trumped over my fear and I wanted to fight in this moment. Beck turned around and started to walk away.

"I'm not your property, Beck. I don't belong to anyone." I snapped at him. Beck paused in the doorway for a moment before looking back at me, a smirk on his face.

"Of course you belong to me." he said, coldly. "In this world, everybody owns somebody, in some way or another." And with this line, Beck slipped around the corner and left us standing there, angry and confused.