I'd learned in the thirteen months my daughter had been with me to hope for the best and expect the worst when it came to her father. Since the night I'd left my best friend at her house begging for me to stay, I hadn't been allowed out of Dalton's sight outside of visiting my parents once a month so their suspicions weren't raised. It was crazy that Dalton believed my mother wasn't already on high alert, watching me intently and checking me for marks every time I saw her, but I wasn't going to tell him that.

Walking into our apartment the last Friday of the month a sleeping Danni in my arms, nausea immediately crept up my throat at the sight of the bar our coffee table had become and the crowded living room. It was already after ten and I had no energy or patience to deal with a room full of drunk, hypersexual men with gambling and alcohol addictions. However, I also knew better than to deny my boyfriend my attention and blinked the tears from my eyes and forced a smile. As I passed him at the end of the couch, I kissed him softly and nodded toward Danni, insinuating I needed to go lay her down.

I spent far longer than necessary in the nursery, watching as my little baby wheezed out each breath. Knowing her father would come busting into the room with no care of her sleep, I eventually forced myself from the perch over her crib and headed for the door. I lingered in the doorway, squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself for the inevitable hell tonight was going to be.

"Har, baby, can you grab us a few more beers from the fridge?" Dalton called without sparing a glance in my direction as soon as I entered the room again. I nodded despite him not looking and slipped into the kitchen, nearly throwing up when I saw the two cases at the bottom of my refrigerator. As if the entire bar of empty bottles and cans on our table weren't enough.

As soon as I'd passed the bottles out, I grabbed a trash bag and started cleaning. Dalton flashed me a grateful smile, but his eyes didn't stay on me long.

I couldn't say the same about his friend.

In fact, those dilated, beady little brown eyes had been trailing my every move since I'd walked through my front door. I shifted uncomfortably and angled my body in the opposite direction as I swept up the remainder of trash and set it by the door.

My boyfriend, completely oblivious to his buddy eying me like a meal, nudged him aside and pulled me so I was seated between the two of them. I kept my eyes trained on the basketball game on the screen, pretending to be interested in all the slurred sports and betting talk. Not long after sitting, I felt a hand inching its way toward my inner thigh and pushed it off before it could reach its intended target. I tried to scoot closer to Dalton, but he shot up from the couch, shouting at the TV, and left me to fend for myself next to his perv of a friend.

"Don't worry, baby, I'd make sure to satisfy you first."

I gagged and undoubtedly would have thrown up if I'd eaten anything in the last few days. That wasn't enough to satisfy him. He grasped my hand and set it on his own thigh. Before I could shove him, Dalton finally came to the realization that I was still beside him, and his eyes remained on my hand on his friend's thigh for a minute before he reaches over and grabs me, positioning me on his lap with one of his hands in the same spot as his friend's had been, the other across both legs. The change should have relaxed me, I was away from unwanted wandering hands. But the knowledge of what'd go on as soon as all these men filed out our friend door had me considering the alternative of leaving with his friend.

"Cool it, man. That's my girl you're touching,"

I leaned back slowly into Dalton, hesitating momentarily, unsure how he might react. I should have known he wouldn't raise his hand or voice to me with his friends around. He hugged me tighter against him, and slowly, as all the men around us started cheering and clapping, I disassociated. Hoping that when I came back to reality I'd be anywhere but this hell.

*

"You and Dev seemed pretty cozy earlier." Dalton commented from behind me, reminding me of where I was. I processed the words-and that the water had gone from cold to scorching hot sometime during my disassociating, and my hands were bright red.

"You're not going to go around sleeping with my friends behind my back, understand?" Dalton said through his teeth, edging closer. "Your little friends may be whores but I'm not going to have one raise my daughter too."

I flinched, nodding, hoping he'd take my nonverbal response and leave me in peace.

Of course I could never get so lucky.

He shut the water off and grasped my achy wrist so tightly it'd likely leave a bruise. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Dalton."

He eyed me in disgust for a minute before shaking his head and walking out of the kitchen. I waited until all I heard was silence to finish up in the kitchen. Dalton was out cold on his back on the sofa, half his body hanging off the piece of furniture. I snagged a blanket from the closet and despite having no desire to help him, the nurturing mother in me still rolled him on his side, tucked a pillow under his head and threw the blanket over him. I left the room for the kitchen once more and returned with pain killers and a glass of water. I hit the lights on my way out and went straight for Danni's nursery rather than our bedroom.

I found her sleeping soundly in her crib, a ghost of a smile on her lips as she slept soundly. I slid down the bars and hugged my knees to my chest, trying my hardest to contain the sob that threatened to escape.

I had spent most of my life with the image of a picture perfect family in the back of my mind. White picket fence, huge yard, a happy marriage, and a couple kids racing around in circles, driving us crazy. What I'd got couldn't have been more different that the dream I'd once had.

Every day was walking on eggshells, not sure what it would be that trigger Dalton. Never knowing if I'd become a walking punching bag or sex toy that day. I wanted more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life to have enough strength to walk away. I'd been given the opportunity twice but I didn't. I couldn't.

I hated myself every single day for not being able too. \

I made excuses every day on why I don't walk away. Some days it's a hope that Dalton will wake up one day and decide he does love us and we're more than just an image he likes to flaunt around. Some days it's because I love him, even after all the bruises he'd left on me and how much of my blood stained our sheets, tile, and clothes. And some days, some days it's that I don't want Danni to have a broken family. I convince myself that its okay that Dalton beats me, that he assaults me, as long as she isn't touched and has both parents. Even if I know deep down that it isn't okay, that it's not right.

"One day you'll meet a man that takes your breath away. That loves you unconditionally. At your best and your worst. He'll be all you ever think about." Mom had told the three of us girls as teenagers. "But you want to know how you'll know he's the one? He'll know every little thing about you, your favorite colors and smells, and flowers. He'll make you smile. He'll make you so happy that you'll forget what it was like to not be overwhelmed with joy. No man that loves you will make you cry, will be the reason you are upset and still go about his day. Never, ever settle for less than you're worth."

As I craned my neck to look at the beautiful little girl in the crib behind me, my mother's words filled the empty room and I wished so desperately for her arms around me as I responded, "But what if I don't feel like I'm worth anything?"