Her Savior

Chapter 3

*Harper’s POV*

Sitting in English class actually calmed me down for some reason. It could be that no one from Tyler’s crew is here, or it could be that I have had a general interest in reading, writing, and grammar ever since I was little. I was completely engrossed in the material when the classroom door opened. I looked up to see a boy, about my age, a little above average height, smooth, dark hair pulled to one side, with a very lean body. I could tell he was working out, and I couldn't seem to take my eyes off of him for some reason.

“Ah, you must be Dawson, right?” My teacher pulled me out of my daze.

“Yes, ma’am.” Even his voice was a perfect, deep and soothing tone. He was absolutely gorgeous, with his dark eyes, tan skin, and fine jaw line that made him look older than he was. His aura of power filled up the surrounding room. I knew without a doubt that he was definitely way out of my league.

“Oh, perfect! Students, we have a new classmate joining us. His name is Dawson and I expect all of you to make him feel welcome. Dawson, go ahead and sit next to Harper, in the corner.” She pointed to where I was seated, and my heart skipped a beat for a moment.

He nodded before walking to sit right next to me while Mrs. Watson continued her lecture.

Dawson's eyes met mine, causing him to smile and reach out his hand out to shake mine.

“I’m Dawson,” he said in the most attractive voice I had ever heard. I was immediately hooked, but had only known him for all of two minutes.

“Harper,” I said shyly, shaking his hand in return.

“Nice to meet you, Harper.”

“You too,” I replied with a slight smile before looking back to the front of the room for the rest of the lecture. I took a deep breath and tried to get him out of my mind, knowing my life was way too complicated to try to add a boy into the mix.

The rest of the day went by without incident. I finished grabbing my things from my locker and made my way to detention. I walked into the room, took a seat, and started working on my homework from that day. I got as much done as I could, knowing I most likely wouldn't have the strength to do it later. I let out a deep sigh, knowing how much trouble I would be in when I got home.

As soon as my time was up, I rushed for the exit and left school, running all the way home. I made it to my block and finally managed to slow my pace to a light jog until I reached my driveway.

As soon as I saw my dad’s truck in the driveway, I stopped dead in my tracks, feeling instant dread. I dropped my head low, feeling defeated. I knew there was no way out of this punishment at this point, so I slowly moved forward to face the music. I knew I was supposed to get home before dad, start my chores, and make dinner all before he came home.

That was one of the main rules he established when school started up again.

I took a deep breath and opened the door, bracing for my reality. I went to close the front door, when I felt a pull in my hair.

“Ahh” I screamed as I was yanked back by my hair. I reached up to try to release his grip, but had no luck.

“Why. Are. You. Late!?” He yelled, taking a beat between each word as he threw me against the wall by my hair.

I fell to the floor with a weak yelp.

“I’m sorry! My teacher had me stay after because I was l-late to c-class.” I said as I tried to get back up.

He kicked me right in the stomach, knocking me back down to the floor. Before I could even attempt to get up, he kicked me hard in my stomach and face, causing a weak groan to leave my mouth. He continued the assault as I laid there defenseless, waiting for the next blow.

“You know what happens when you are late, yet you continue to defy me!” He yelled with another kick to the ribs.

“I’m sorry!” I pleaded. “I didn’t mean t-to. I couldn’t get my locker open.” I curled up in a ball, protecting my head as the kicks continued.

“P-please! I’m sorry!” I put my arms up, protecting myself from each blow.

“It w-won’t happen again. P-please. . . St-stop” I tried to get out, but it came out as more of a whisper.

He grabbed me hard by the throat and lifted me up to a standing position, pressing me hard against the wall. I winced as my entire body ached. I grabbed his hands, trying to get him to release his grip, but it was no use. He was much stronger than I am. The harsh smell of alcohol stung my nostrils as I struggled to breathe. He was much more aggressive when he was drunk. I knew my fight was useless, so I closed my eyes, holding back tears, and waiting until he either decided to release me or I passed out. The latter didn't sound so bad right about now, knowing I would escape from the pain, if even for a moment.

“It should have been you,” he spat. I kept my eyes closed, pained by his words. As my wind pipe slowly closed off any oxygen, I couldn’t help but think that maybe he would actually kill me this time. . .I knew I would at least get to see my mom again, so it wasn't all bad. I just hoped it was quick. . .

Suddenly, he let go, letting me fall to the floor holding my throat as I gasped for air.

“You come home late again, and you won’t like the consequences.” My whole body shivered at the thought as I adjusted to the influx of oxygen in my lungs.

He leaned down and grabbed me by the chin, lifting my eyes to his. “Do I make myself clear?” He asked. I nodded, eyes wide as he let go of me.

“Now get up and get our dinner ready and don’t even think about sneaking a bite of food.” I nodded, feeling defeated once more.

“Yes, s-sir.” I said as I slowly started to rise to my feet, wincing with each painful movement.

He walked to the kitchen to grab another beer before he exited into the living room.

I slowly limped to the kitchen, feeling pain all over. I bit my lip, holding back the tears as I began making dinner.

I'd almost finished making beef enchiladas when Tyler walked through the door. He always came home late because of football practice. I kept my head down and moved out of the way as he walked into the kitchen.

He grabbed a beer from the fridge, popped off the cap, and took a big swig.

“What’s for dinner?” He turned to me, walking closer. My breath hitched as I stepped back, away from him, but the counter prevented me from going any further.

“Beef enchiladas and rice,” I said in a soft voice. He stepped closer, grabbing me by the chin and forcing my eyes to find his. I flinched at the sudden movement.

“Ah, daddy taught the princess another lesson, eh?”

I stared at him as a few tears slipped from my eyes. I hated it when he called me that. The irony in the word ‘princess’ verbally smacked me in the face.

He clearly didn’t expect a response from me, as I’m sure he could see the cuts and bruises all over my face and arms. I made a mental note to cover them before school tomorrow.

“What did you do this time?” he asked, truly curious.

“I w-was l-late,” I said in a small voice.

“Ah,” he smirked as he let me go. “Good thing you weren’t any later,” he paused and turned to face me. “You know what happens when I don’t get fed on time, right?”

I nodded in response, along with a faint “yes.” A new sense of dread filled my heart.

“Good girl,” he leaned over to roughly pat me on the head.

I moved to take the enchiladas out of the oven and started plating. Tyler went to leave, but stopped and turned to face me. “Oh, and Talia is coming for dinner, so make sure to plate for three.”

I nodded just as the doorbell rang. Talia, I’m assuming. Tyler walked off, seeming satisfied with my silent reply.

I grabbed another plate out of the cabinet and finished plating for three as Tyler walked back into the kitchen with Talia in hand.

I tried to keep my head down and pretend not to notice her presence—the pain was too great. It was just a reminder of yet another thing I have lost.

Tyler and Talia were talking and laughing at something as he led her into the dining room, ignoring me completely. I kind of liked it that way. I entered the dining room, placing a plate full of enchiladas and rice in front of each of them. I bowed my head and turned to exit towards the kitchen.

I clean up as quickly as I can, but as slowly as I had to. My whole body ached as I strained to wipe the counters and wash the dishes.

“Isn’t Harper going to eat?” I heard Talia ask from the dining room.

“Oh, she already ate,” Tyler was quick to respond. She seemed to accept the lie because I heard them move on to discuss Tyler’s football practice. I wished his lie were true. I was so very hungry.

I finished cleaning the kitchen and made my way to my space in the attic. The leftover crackers under my mattress were keeping my hunger at bay. I sat on my bed as I digested a few of them, wondering if there was more to my life than this. Was this all my life was now?

I was lost in thought when I heard a knock on the door. I hurried to hide my crackers before I gave a quiet “come in.” Hmm, that’s weird—no one ever knocked. They usually just barged in.

The door opened, and I saw Talia standing there with a full plate of food. I eyed her carefully as she walked over to me. “Here,” she said, putting a plate of food next to me on the bed. I looked at her confused. Is this a joke? This has to be a trick. As if she read my mind, she furthered: “I'm not trying to be deceptive, I promise. I can tell you haven’t eaten. . . You are far too skinny. . .” She justified her nice gesture.

I hesitated for a minute, wondering if I could trust her. As I heard my stomach grumble, I decided to risk it and reach for the food. “Th-thank y-you,” I said as I started shoveling down the food.

She nodded and moved to exit. “Well, I better go before they notice I’m gone.” She left, closing the door behind her, and I turned to finish my dinner.

This is the first night in weeks that I laid down to sleep with a full belly. Why was she being so nice? She hates me now. . . Maybe she is finally accepting me again? No, I doubted it. I shook the thought away as I felt myself fading into a deep sleep.

Making breakfast the next morning, I felt slightly happy. It had to be because I had a full meal last night, thanks to Talia. I quickly plated breakfast and set it down in the dining room for dad and Tyler. I heard them come down the stairs and make their way to the dining room as I turned to grab my bag in the kitchen and head out the front door.

I made it to my locker, switching out my books that I'd need for the day. I went to close my locker and noticed someone standing close to me. I flinched, waiting for the worst.

“Hey, Harper, right?” It was Dawson. I breathed a sigh of relief knowing it was just him.

“Yes, and you’re Dawson. The new student, right?” He nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah, my dad got relocated for his job.”

“Oh, where are you from?” I asked, trying to take my mind off my daily life.

“California,” he responded with a smile. “Have you lived here all your life?”

I nodded and responded with a small “yes.”

“Gotcha, so what does one do around Omaha? Stock corn?” I chuckled, knowing that’s what everyone pictures when they think of Nebraska.

“No,” I laughed, “There is actually quite a bit to do around here. Shopping malls, restaurants, the zoo, the movies. . .” I listed all the things to do around here when I saw Cole and Tyler walking towards us.

“Um, I have to go,” I quickly shut my locker door, “I’ll see you later, OK?” I started walking down the hallway, not letting him respond before taking off. I hoped he would forgive me for rushing off so quickly, but I needed to avoid Tyler and Cole as much as possible.