"But you know you got a mean streak, makes me run for cover when you're around, here's to you and your temper"

Warning: This chapter and a lot of the following ones in this series will include sometimes graphic depictions of abuse and can be pretty harmful to those who have struggled or continue to struggle with this issue. I'd advise this fanfic maybe isn't for you if that's something you'd like to avoid. Remember, you're not alone and there are plenty of people who can help you, if you need someone to talk to I'm always here and there are also extremely helpful hotlines to those who need it.

Noah — Last night.

"Grams I think I put too much flour." I grimace at the bowl full of floor and just a little of the mixture underneath. 

"Noah! I said just a little!" Maja squeals with frustration, rushing to fix the mistake.

"Now we all know what the solution is, don't we." Grams grins, grabbing the sugar and shooing away Maja and I from the bowl. "We just add more of everything else and get extra cookies." She smiles cheekily.

"Which means.. more chocolate chips." She looks to the two of us and winks.

Maja reaches to the huge bag of chocolate chips kept in the pantry. Grams lets me pour them in, the clink of the chocolate echoing in the glass bowl along with Maja's laughter after Grams tosses a little pinch of flour on her.

Grams starts mixing it up, Maja and I sharing a smirking glance when she starts humming some old song from the 70's.

We put the cookies in the oven and get started on cleaning up. Or as Grams calls it, 'kids clean up whilst Grammy snacks on chocolate chips'.

That's when the kitchen door slams open. Our Father strolls in drunkenly, his breath reeking of liquor.

"Smells good. Finish up and we'll head home." Dad slurs, flopping onto one of the island chairs.

The sound of his voice sends a paralysing chill down my spine, any smile once present in this room disappear and are haunted by booze breath and slurring speech.

I see the way Maja tenses up, cowering back into herself. I have a similar yet quite opposite reaction, I immediately fix my posture before he can tell me to.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, drinking on a weekday in front of your children." Grams growls.

"Oh relax, Agnes. I'm celebrating.. and besides I don't work anyway." He shrugs with a smirk.

"What are you celebrating today?" Maja scoffs, I kick her in warning. If she starts something it's me who'll be penalised. 

"Being alive? Or having beautiful and intelligent children? But more-so being a day closer to my bitch of a Mother-in-law dying." He snorts, nudging Grams.

"Oh honey, I'm outliving you." She grins sarcastically.

"Alright, grab your shit, we're leaving." Dad tells us. "Excuse me my cookies aren't ready and my kiddies need to test and make sure they aren't poisoned." Grams interrupts. Dad grits his teeth but nevertheless gets his phone out and starts typing furious emails to his shareholders.

Dad is a prime example of nepotism. A talentless ass hole who got money passed down from his Father and all he had to do was sign off on deals and stuff. A job that would be passed on to me. Aren't I lucky?

So I continue scrubbing the dishes clean, the flour residue mixing with the water and making an awful chalk in my hands.

At home we have staff running around doing this kind of stuff for us. And despite Gram's wealth, she refuses to have help with everything. She has a few staff who'll make her dinner sometimes, or cleaners who'll clean up places in the mansion she can't get to at her age. But for the most part it's all her. After Gramps died she felt too lonely here to get rid of the staff, but she still insisted on doing stuff the old fashioned way. That's why Maja and I are here, we come here to keep her company every other day.

"Noah, your girlfriend's beautiful." Grams calls out.

I blink my thoughts away. My girlfriend's beautiful? Yeah I know. I almost say, before it hits me.

"Girlfriend?!" I panic, looking to Maja with worry, her eyes are as fearful as mine.

"Lovely breasts she's got too." She points out.

I scramble to wash my hands off before grabbing a towel and racing towards Grams.

"That? No Grams I don't have a girlfriend." I deny, grabbing my phone and looking at what she saw.

And there she is. Spencer in her underwear with no top on. A nude. And she decides to send it when I'm with my family.

I try not to get hard at how gorgeous she looks. Now would not be the time. 

My Dad's attention is now far from his emails as he stares at the two of us, waiting for something. His facial expression is completely neutral, not a hint of anger or confusion.

"Well why'd she send you a picture of her hooters?" Grams frowns.

"It must've been an accident. I don't know that girl." I laugh nervously.

"What's her name?" Dad asks curiously. "Spence, with a little heart next to it." Grams grins pleasantly.

Dad starts typing on his phone and I try to eye Maja, hoping she can save me from this. 

"Hey Dad, I was wondering-" Maja attempts.

"Searching your instagram following list for a Spence. We've got four accounts that you follow, any of these ring bells? 'Spencer Hawthorne', 'Spencer Hawthorne fan account', 'Spencer Hawthorne being hot' and 'Spence backup'." He lists.

With each one I glow a brighter shade of red. 

"Aww Archie, you're in love." Grams reaches up and squeezes my cheek.

"I mean back in the olden days, if a guy liked you he would keep a photo of you by his bed in the trenches, but following instagram accounts dedicated to you being hot is sort of romantic too i guess.." Grams trails off.

I would laugh. But all I can do is stare at my Father with unblinking eyes as he scrolls through her photos. 

"Yeah I have a crush on her.. she's not my girlfriend or anything." I scoff.

"She posted a photo with you in it during the weekend you were at the jazz band camp." Dad grits, his rage sinking down beneath my skin and causing a chill to ripple over me.

"Yeah I think she plays the drums? I was piano so we were beside each other the whole time. I guess I was just in the background of one photo?" I improvise, knowing the exact photo in question.

"Let me follow her. Need to get to know my son's girlfriend." He says calmly, clicking a button on his phone.

"Dad stop it. She isn't my girlfriend, I barely know her." I justify.

"Noah, it's alright. You can have a girlfriend." He settles with a serious smile. That settles my nerves a little, I take a deep breath and nod.

"I mean assumably she has a 4.0 GPA, a good family, an honourable digital footprint, acceptable hobbies, a quiet and kind personality and big plans for the future." He continues.

That's when my stomach starts bubbling up again with anxiety.

Spencer has a 1.0 GPA, a horrific family for the most part, a painfully disturbing digital footprint, hobbies thrust upon her by her Grandfather, a confident and brutally honest personality and (as far as I know) absolutely no plans for the future. Which is all completely fantastic, but my Father won't see it that way.

"Yeah. She's a really respectable girl." I nod in agreement.

"You won't mind my men doing some deep dives on her. But at the end of the day it doesn't really matter too much as long as she's fertile and a good cleaner." He nods calmly.

"That's not all women are good for." I murmur, taking a lot of guts to stand up to him.

"And what is she good for then?" He challenges, raising his voice.

I want to tell him she makes me laugh. I want to tell him she makes me brave and strong but also lets me be vulnerable at times. I want to say she's the sweetest girl I know with such a sharp tongue for everyone else. I want to say she's the most genuine and authentic girl I've come across. I want to say she's the best thing that's ever been mine. 

But I can't.

I can't say any of this.

So instead I just blink and look anywhere but my Father. "Nothing." I mutter dismissively.

Agreeing with him is always easiest. I've been rebellious before and it hasn't gotten me far. So nodding sheepishly and agreeing is just easier.

"Would you look at that. Searched her on TikTok, she doesn't appear to have an account, but the first video is her taking her shirt off at a party. It's got 15 million likes. And the more I scroll the more I find. This one is her sitting on some mans lap making out with him.. Lord look she's still going." He laughs.

I glance to Maja for help. I'm aware it's me in the video. A video of us kissing at a party was posted a couple of days ago, receiving a whopping 6 million likes, thankfully my face is never in the video but I think my Father could decipher. But it's from the back so you can't see me. But if the angle moves or if she does I'm done for.

"I think Noah is just having a phase. I'm sure it'll pass with the love of his family." Maja says gently, our Father closing the app thankfully.

"Finish the cookies. I'll be waiting in the car." Dad grumbles, pushing to his feet and heading out.

The second he's gone I allow myself to relax and let out a shaky breath I didn't know I was holding.

"What a horrible man. You kids just tell me if he ever lays a hand on either of you, I've been waiting for an excuse to get him locked up." Grams scoffs, taking the cookies out the oven.

I shift anxiously, looking to Maja, the two of us share a worried look. We both know the second we get out there his calmness will disappear.

"You'll be having your girlfriend over when?" Grams looks to me warningly.

"I don't think that's a good idea.." I scratch my neck nervously, watching Grams transfer the cookies into two jars.

"Nonsense. If you're worried about me not liking her or thinking she's a little too much for you then don't. If you met me back when I was reeling in your Gramps, your girlfriend would seem tame." She winks.

I let out a chuckle at this, savouring every last second before we have to leave.

"I guess I'll talk to her about it." I agree.

"Brilliant. And give some of these cookies to her. Poor girl looks like she's made of just skin and bones." 

I frown and take the jar of cookies, thinking about how skinny she is.

Maja and I hug Grams goodbye and head out to the car, both of us sitting in the back out of fear.

The entire drive he stays silent, like an uber driver. I don't mention how dangerous it is to drive drunk. I don't question why he gave us a ride home instead of one of our drivers. We park outside the house and blink silently, in anticipation of something.

"What are you waiting for? Inside." He says unbothered.

Maja and I slowly turn to look at one another before scurrying out the car like squirrels. Dad starts parking up in the garage, Maja and I walk quickly around all the other unused sports cars, racing for the foyer.

"Hurry to bed now, you've got school tomorrow." Dad smiles, walking past us and towards the kitchen.

With the small jar of cookies in hand I waste no time rushing up to bed, grateful for whatever is making my Father so calm.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Maja hisses. "I don't know, but I'm not spending a minute finding out." I mutter, rounding the corner alongside my sister, both of us racing up the staircases and along the corridors. Weirdly in the whole mansion, Maja and I have rooms right beside each other. There's Mom and Dad's wing, the guest wing, and our wing. I guess Dad thought since we were twins we would just be okay sharing everything. Thankfully we've never had to share a room, but sleeping next to her isn't always great.

"Night." She murmurs. "Night, love you." I attempt a hopeful smile, ruffling her hair playfully and stepping inside my room.

The second I get inside my room I flop on my bed. I reach into my drawer, pulling out a folded up picture of Spencer. We're yet to take any photos together, from what I've gathered she only ever posts what her management tells her to. 

I hear a gentle knock on my door, I sigh and sulk over, expecting Maja to be there for some sort of late night talk we often end up having.

Instead, my Father is standing with an empty glass bottle.

He invites himself in, kicking the door shut behind him and sitting on the edge of my bed. 

"So your girlfriend.. Tell me how you know her." He smiles proudly, seeming genuinely interested. 

I blink at him, seeing no signs of anger, just investment. 

"She's Xander's sister. I sit beside her in calculus, I started tutoring her." I explain with a grin.

"You two having sex?.. I won't tell your Mother." He winks. "Uh.. no." I shake my head, sitting down on my desk chair.

"You thinking about it? I want to give you some basic breakdowns first." He tells me. "I guess. But I've already had the talk so it's fine." I laugh softly, looking down to my fidgeting hands.

"Well you can have her over for dinner some time this week. If she's dating my son I want to meet her." He tells me.

"Nah I don't think she'd like that." I dismiss. "She shy? Shy is a good thing. Shy girls know how to take orders." He nods firmly.

"Yeah.. I just think it'd be better if we waited a little." I smile.

"Alright. Just have a word with her and we can see when she'd be okay with it. I can have our chefs make her favourite if you tell me what it is." Dad tells me.

"Yeah, that'd be good." I grin genuinely for the first time in a while around him.

"Right, before I get distracted let's do this." He smiles kindly, pushing to his feet nonchalantly.

"Do what?" I frown, blinking up at him. 

Before his answer can be verbalised, I know the answer. A piercing ache rippling through my nose after his fist pummelled down on me.

I let out a groan, grabbing my nose with pain.

"Shirt off and sit down." He smiles gently, as if he said something really kind and sweet.

"Dad.." I trail off, tears in my eyes. 

My attempt at persuasion doesn't work, his glass bottle slamming straight towards the back of my head. I groan and fall to the ground. Blood oozes down my neck and my hearing turns to just ringing.

I'm hunched over on my hands and knees like a dog when his boot slams upwards against my gut. A shriek of agony escaped my lips, and another when the boot collides again. This time I fall onto my side, a ball on the floor as the same boot reconnects with my stomach over and over again.

"Dad!" I wheeze, my voice completely gone.

"Shirt off!" He booms, the walls echoing around the whole house. The knowledge that Maja can hear all of this makes me feel sick.

"I don't get it.. why can Maja have a boyfriend but I can't have a girlfriend?" I demand.

"Tristan is a good Christian man. He does the jobs of a husband. Your prostitute is a bad influence. You've got your future ahead of you, a big breasted woman telling you she can show you a whole new side to the world is delusional." He lectures.

"Please.. I'll break up with her." I beg, tears running down my cheeks as I stumble myself to my feet.

"No.. No you won't. I'll meet her and do it for you so I know it's done. It's not your fault son. And I'm sorry that it's you who faces the consequences. She's a monster for making you go through this." My Father places a hand on my shoulder, looking into my eyes with sympathy as I bawl.

"Shirt off." He frowns, somehow acting like he doesn't want to do this.

My whole body is shaking head to toe as I pry my sweat and blood soaked shirt off. I walk on shaky legs to my bed.

"You're a good boy, you know that. But we have standards in this house. We have Maja to be our athletic, confident and strong child. And you're our academical, intelligent, shy little boy. That's the way we've always been and I don't want that to change because of a girl. You need to stick with your violin and piano, the robotics club needs you, and the science club. You're not you without astronomy and chess. It's just who you are. You don't date girls who party. Just like how you don't play soccer. God, remember that phase!" Dad laughs.

He takes a seat behind me on the bed. I sniffle and shift uncomfortably. If only he knew.

"You ready?" He asks gently. I nod sheepishly.

The flame of his lighter stings into my lower back. Though it's more of a blowtorch if truth be told, it's shaped like one and has a flame as big as one. The only difference is he can carry it everywhere in his pocket.

I yelp out in pain, childlike cries drowning the room.

"Stay still, son." He tells me.

I freeze as much as I can. 

My Father has been burning me with that lighter for the past 10 years. It's always on the same part of my back, i'm always perched on the same edge of my bed.

I chew down on my thumb, feeling blood draw just a little.

"You're doing good. We're almost halfway to a record." He informs me, squeezing my shoulder.

He times me every time, seeing how long I can go without passing out or throwing up. I can feel my eyes falling shut as the blistering heat and pain blend. Next thing I know Maja is waking me up.

"Jesus Noah." She cries, helping me up.

"I need to go." I murmur. "Come with me." I add.

"He's not mad at me right now, I'm taking advantage of that. Just get out for as long as you need, I'll cover for you." She assures me.

I nod gratefully and start to shrug on a hooded sweatshirt. "Let me see." She steps forward, lifting my sweater to see the burn.

"Fucking hell it's horrific." She gags. "I can imagine it's no worse than yours." I groan in pain when the sweatshirt sticks to my melted skin. 

I'm grateful to not have eye on the back of my head because I never want to see that. But I've seen Maja's before. When it's fresh it looks monstrous, melted skin red and blistered. But after a while it seems to look a little less terrifying. Like a big shiny scar with blisters and red swelling.

It's agonising, but as sick as it sounds we're sort of used to it by now.

I sneak out my balcony, getting into my blue Lamborghini and driving. I can feel it starting. A panic attack. I type my best friend's name on my phone, hitting call.  

Xander Hawthorne is the only person outwith my house who knows what goes on behind closed doors. I told him back when it started but warned him not to tell anyone because my life depended on it. Since then he's had me staying at his place every night he can, studying late at school and coming round to my place to try and stop the inevitable. I owe him so much.

The worse it gets the more he threatens to tell someone. But he doesn't seem to understand this isn't just the kind of thing you tell someone about and get fixed instantly. You tell someone and they tell your parents that there'll be an investigation and suddenly my Father has killed me before I can make it out alive.

Xander won't pick up. I don't expect him to answer every time, but with each passing second my chest is tightening more and it's getting harder and harder to ignore. I can tell this one's a bad one.

I dial Spencer's number in an act of desperation, listening to the ringing for only a moment before she picks up.

I let put a steady sigh of relief hearing her voice.

A little over an hour later I'm biding her goodnight, praying she somehow forgets the terrifying panic attack I just had. She knows I have anxiety now. But the weight that should be off my chest still tugs down on my heart.

"Thanks Xander." I smile genuinely at him. The two of us now in his bedroom getting ready to sleep. "Noah.." He sighs, a pained whisper. "Please Xan." I plead, turning to look him in the eyes. 

He rubs his forehead with a stressed hand, pacing towards his closet where he produces two sets of pajamas for the two of us.

"I'm not okay with lying about this Noah.. not anymore. I'm sick of covering for him." He demands, staying calm as he takes his clothes, me facing the other direction to him and doing the same.

"Please.. The second Mai and I turn 18 you know we're moving out and we'll never see him again. If you tell anyone there'll be an investigation and before he can even get arrested we're dead. Okay? And that doesn't mean we're getting beat up again, it means we're actually dead." I emphasis with desperation.

"Noah I'm a terrible friend for not telling anyone." He reasons. "And I'm dead if you do." I turn to him with small teardrops lining my eyes.

"What about Maja? If not yourself then her. I don't understand how you can sit there knowing she's getting hurt." He shakes his head.

I run a hand through my hair, immediately swiping the tears from my cheeks and taking a deep breath. "Don't say that." I warn with an ache in my heart.

He's pointing out yet again that I continuously let my sister get beat up and listen through thin walls. I take as many of her hits as I can but our Father is relentless, if it means hurting me before he gets to hurt her he'll do it. The disgusting creature takes no shame in hitting girls. 

"I'm sorry.." Xander trails off. "It's not on you." He clarifies. I keep my back turned and try to compose myself.

"Noah!" He raises his voice to make me listen. "It's not your fault." Xander assures. 

I nod gently, still not turning around as I pry my sweatshirt over my head and wincing when the material makes a painful stick to the mangled spot on my back.

"Again?" Xander hisses with sympathy. I turn around this time, silently asking him to help with my extremely bruised abs. 

The gasp he tries to conceal is clear, but he coughs and excuses himself to get me ice.

I step before the mirror in his room, the late night dim lighting illuminating only a little, but its enough to see that imbedded on my six packs is an array of purple and blue bruises, hurting every time I breathe, the result of my Father's boot slamming against my gut several times.

My already bruised face from my recent fight is already kissed with another bruise on my nose, one that I'm hoping Spencer doesn't notice. The night after he found out about the fights Maja and I both had, he added to it.

I spend the rest of the night on Xander's pull out bed from under his own bed. Ice laying on my chest as I stare at the ceiling and wonder what I did to deserve this life.