When I was a child, I had a reoccurring dream of being trapped in a small, dark room with the walls closing in with every breath I took until I could no longer breathe. I'd wake up in a cold sweat, my father would console me, and I'd fall back asleep as though the nightmare had never been dreamt.

Living with Dalton for the last two years, I felt as if I were still in that room, only this time, I never woke in a cold sweat or had my Daddy by my side to reassure me it was no more than a dream and that everything would be okay.

As I sat on the floor of the living room watching Danielle build her little tower of blocks, then knock it over and fall into a fit of hysteric giggles, I wished more than anything to be able to experience the childlike joy and wonder that were still within her. She was still so oblivious and naïve to the world and how cruel it could be, and I was going to ensure it remained that way.

"Mama." she said with a clap, than started to repeat it in varying octaves. "Mama. Mama. Mama."

I extended a handout and raked my fingertips through her blonde curls, noting how bitten down and raw my cuticles had become.

"Dada!" Danni shouted suddenly, and though I didn't turn around, I could feel the cold air against my back as the door sat open. I unconsciously straightened just the slightest hearing the door click shut and the deadbolt being set into place. He'd insisted we needed it a couple weeks ago, excusing that Danielle was walking and getting taller and at some point in the near future would be able to open and unlock the door.

What he emitted from his reasoning was that he wanted to show me just how much control he truly had over us. That deadbolt flashed like a neon warning sign before my eyes and I still pretended to be blind to it.

"Is there a reason your on the floor and not the kitchen?"

I swallowed the bitter retort that sat in the back of my throat and once I'd composed myself, whispered, "I cooked this afternoon. Dinner is on the stove and in the fridge. I also put a few beers in so they'd be cold for you."

He was satisfied with that response, but given that he clearly already had a few in him, didn't leave good enough alone.

"Danni doesn't need to be on the floor all the time, you know? Or inside the house. We have a small yard, Harley. It was one of the reasons we got this place. Just because you want to sit on your ass all day and be lazy doesn't mean our daughter should have to. She's walking now, let her be active."

I'd grown so used to the belittling and snide comments I didn't even flinch hearing the words this time. "Got it."

I wanted to go and leave this house with Danni every minute of every day, but my depression had forced me to a point where it was a miracle if I even rolled out of bed before ten anymore. Most days Danni would wake up and crawl into bed beside me, curled up against my stomach with her face buried in the crook of my neck. We'd stay like that for hours, until I was able to manage to recollect myself long enough to feed her and prep dinner for Dalton. We'd spend the remainder of the day in the nursery or living room playing on the floor; her giggling and building, me dissociating from reality for hours as I stared straight ahead at the wall behind her.

"Where were you Friday night?" Dalton asked as he entered the living room, cracking the beer open. I did flinch hearing the God awful sound fill the room. "I don't want any bullshit either. I checked your location and it'd been turned off."

"I was with my parents."

He snickered. "Right. Okay."

"You can call and speak with them, Dalton."

I knew he never would. He'd learned a long time ago that my mother had the rage and hatred to bury him alive and my father would be her alibi and accomplice.

"If you were sneaking around on me, you might as well just fucking say it." he walked passed me and sat at the edge of the couch to my back. "Not sure why anyone would want your used up ass though. Fat, stretch marks, saggy tits. Not much there to want anymore."

I should have been used to the demeaning and cruel words he spewed on the daily, but hearing them never got easier. I still felt a sting in my chest and in my eyes, my throat burned.

"Or were you hanging out with Ash?" he was talking more to himself than me at this point, sipping on the can of beer as he considered his own question. "That's more plausible, given your current appearance."

"Danni needs to be bathed." I whispered, then louder, added. "Let me get her ready for bed and I'll heat up the food."

He didn't look away from our daughter beside me as he snapped, "Was I done talking to you?"

Were you ever actually talking to me?

"I'm so over your bullshit, Harley. It's always some shit with you lately." he ran a hand down his face. "I work twelve hours every God Damn day while you sit here on your ass and stare at a wall for a good majority of those hours. You seriously need some fucking help."

I bowed my head, still staring at Danni playing through my lashes.

"I'm sorry you can't be the mother our daughter needs." he said this with so much malice I physically bit my tongue to stop from responding. He knew it'd hit my weakest point, my biggest fear. The loathing that I had for him increased within milliseconds, but with it, came the hatred I had for myself.

"Poor little Harley Jane gets to stay home all fucking day and still can't manage to dress herself or her own child." His eyes roamed my dirty pajamas, then Danni's onesie. The same onesie she'd been in for the last two days. "You always want to play victim, but you're the one that's neglecting our child and her needs."

I didn't answer. I knew better than to allow my emotions to get the best of me. I swept Danni from the floor, hoping he'd let me retreat from the one sided argument without a fight, but should have known that luck wouldn't be on my side.

He shot to his feet the moment I started for the hallway and caught my arm so roughly I nearly dropped Danielle.

"What's wrong? Do you not like hearing your wrongdoings? Because I'm the only fucked up one in this relationship, right? That's what you believe. What you've made everyone else believe."

I clutched Danni against my chest. "Dalton, please."

"I'm so fucking tired of you making me out to be a monster when you're the fucking problem!"

The raising of his voice had Danni starting to cry against me, but he was so lost in his own rage he didn't even bat an eye when a quiet sob escaped her little mouth.

"You lie. You play victim. Because God forbid Harley Mason doesn't anything wrong, right?" he spat angrily, edging closer so our faces were only inches apart. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, sweetheart, but you'd be nothing but a waste of fucking space if I didn't put that child in you."

Danni buried her face against me, her crying more audible now. Dalton glanced at her momentarily but wasn't at all fazed by her sobbing.

"This. . . this is your fault! Our daughter being subjected to all this shit is because of you!" he slammed his fist into the wall behind my head and I let out an audible cry and ducked, cowering between the washer and dryer. "Fucking bitch!"

I tried to shush Danni, but my breath kept catching in my throat and my heart was racing as I anticipated Dalton's next move. When he dropped his fury filled, drunken gaze back on to me, I was sure he was going to take out his pent up aggression on me as usual, but something shifted in him then. As if he'd finally come to the realization that he could beat me, break me, and completely destroy me if it meant our daughter was okay.

As his hands shot down for Danielle, I screamed and held her tightly against me.

"Mama! Mama!"

Her screams sounded through the otherwise silent house, and for a moment Dalton hesitated, then any sound state of mind was gone and he ripped her from my grip so hard her forehead slammed into the wall over his shoulder and she started wailing.

I cried, forcing myself to my knees, "Please Dalton! Put her down! Give her to me!"

A sick, sadistic look filled his eyes at the sight of me on my knees begging him but was quickly replaced with irritated as Danielle's cries gradually grew louder.

"Shut up!" Dalton snarled in her face, shaking her far too aggressively. "Shut the fuck up, Danielle!"

It did nothing but cause her to cry more and in a quick movement, he dropped her like a rag doll to the floor, giving me only seconds to catch her before her head could hit the ground. I cradled her to my chest and barricaded her from him, turning my back to him so he had no access to her whatsoever. If he wanted to touch her, he'd have to kill me first.

He muttered incoherently under his breath before starting toward the door, making sure to kick me to the side like trash on the street on his way passed, slamming the door behind him so hard it shook on its hinges.

I kept Danielle against me long after I'd heard his truck roar to life and fade down the street, and eventually found enough energy to crawl on my hands and knees to the coffee table to retrieve my phone. I dialed my mother's number, and after a few rings, she answered with a groggy, "Hello?"

I stared at my phone for a minute, squeezed my eyes shut, and whimpered a hardly audible, "Mom."