The next morning when I woke up, my whole body was stiff.

I laid in bed, staring at my ceiling in silence.

I could feel a sore indent on my throat. My wrists ached. And, most painfully of all, my head pounded out of control.

The ringing of my ears hadn't left, and I found myself squinting in pain from the small amount of light that leaked into my room.

I definitely had a concussion...

I'd have to suck it up though. Nobody could know.

I didn't want anyone to know. Especially not my brothers.

I laid frozen in bed.

I didn't even want to get up.

I stared at the ceiling, feeling numb as a tear trickled it's way down my face.

I turned to my side, wrapping myself in my blanket.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, trying to squeeze my body as close together as humanly possible.

I glanced over to my side table that held a small alarm clock.

It was already 1:30 PM.

Weekends at the Hansen house usually remained private. We used these few days of freedom to do our own thing— no mandatory family meals except for Sunday nights.

This allowed me to lay in bed all day without disturbance.

Around 3, I heard the rummaging of my brothers getting up.

Must've been a fun party if they slept in this late...

I laid silently, letting thoughts run recklessly through my mind.

I don't even think they had noticed me missing last night.

They all came home drunk out of their minds.

I doubt they even checked to see if I was in my room when they got home.

I tossed and turned within my bed, finally finding the strength to go take a shower and wash the filth of last night from my body.

I walked to the bathroom, my whole body in a trance as I started the shower and stepped in.

I stood under the scolding hot water, letting it mend my cold and broken body.

I leaned my head back, letting the water soak my hair.

The water rinsed across the area where Matteo had smashed my head against the floor.

I whimpered, shutting my eyes as I remembered that moment.

I could feel it. The way my brain rumbled deep within my skull. The feeling of dizziness quickly accompanying it. The black void that followed...

I remember his touch, I thought to myself as I began to clean my body.

I could barely touch my chest without sobbing.

I felt disgusting.

Violated.

Used.

I reopened my eyes, realizing that I was now sitting on my shower floor, sobs erupting from my mouth.

I covered my head shamefully as water hit my back.

I stayed on the floor for what seemed like an eternity, my agonizing cries finally soothing to mere whimpers.

Get up. You're stronger than this, my self conscious encouraged me weakly.

But... we both knew I wasn't.

I rose to my feet, turning the water off.

I felt nothing and everything all at once.

I couldn't explain this feeling.

It was like Matteo had stolen something from me.

But, I couldn't figure out what.

My virginity was still intact, so even I couldn't piece together what it was that he had viciously ripped from my grasp only a few hours prior.

Maybe it was my dignity?

My sense of safety?

The thought of this made me want to throw up all over again.

I dragged myself out of the shower, walking towards my mirror and wiping the fog from my view.

I stared at my fragile body, a grimace on my face as I traced over all of my bruises.

This body did not feel like it belonged to me.

I tore my eyes away from the mirror, wrapping a towel tight around my body.

I knew I would never walk away unless I forced myself to.

I took a shuttered sigh, twisting the door to my room back open.

Fog cascaded from the bathroom as I stepped out, my eyes to the ground as I walked around my room.

"Must've been a hot shower," A voice spoke up.

I jumped, turning my head to find the perpetrator.

There was West, sitting on the corner of my bed with his arms folded. He stared at me with a blank face.

I quickly looked away from him, "Yea..."

I stole glances at him, wondering why he was in my bedroom.

"I heard you," West spoke up again, breaking the silence.

At this, I stopped rummaging through my closet, turning around slowly.

"What?"

His lips formed into a thin line, and he tilted his head at me, "Crying," he finished.

My body froze, "I wasn't crying."

I turned my back on him to rummage around my closet for a pair of shorts.

"Our bathrooms are right next to each other's," West sighed, "I heard you."

I whipped my head around, glaring at him.

"Okay, and?" I hissed, my voice raising slightly.

West looked taken back, "Well..." he stilled.

"Why were you crying?" He asked again— this time, much slower.

I didn't drop my glare, an icy feeling now pulsating through my veins.

"None of your business," I bit, slamming my closet door shut and walking into my bathroom to get changed.

I removed my towel slowly, eventually hearing West get up from my bed. I listened to him walk out of the room and close the door behind him.

Cautiously, I opened the bathroom door again.

The room was empty.

I sighed to myself, walking back into my bedroom and curling up in the blankets.

Nobody dared to bother me for the rest of the day, and time ticked around to 11 PM.

My stomach grumbled in hunger, but my mind prevented me from going downstairs.

I felt like a prisoner of my own body. I was trapped inside a shell while my mind ran wild.

Lying frozen, the thoughts of Matteo flashed within my mind.

His hands, his voice.

My body shook violently for hours, unable to erase the memories.

Finally, I was able to drift asleep. But, the next morning when I woke up, I found myself gasping for air.

It felt as if a pair of hands were crushing my airway.

As if his hands were crushing my airway.

I kicked around in my bed, sitting up to find myself all alone.

I panted, bringing my hand up to my forehead to discover I was sweating.

I blinked, feeling a tear slip down my cheek.

Was I crying?

A small amount of light entered my room, and I glanced over to my clock that read 6:37 AM.

I looked down at my hands which were trembling.

Must've been a nightmare.

I took in a huge breath of air, confirming I could breath.

You're okay. You're safe. I repeated these words Wyatt had said to me, recounting the embarrassment of our interaction.

I was grateful though. No matter how uncomfortable the situation with Wyatt had been, he saved me from something I could've never imagined.

I'd always heard about rape.

Seen news stories about how young girls got unsuspectingly lured into a captor's possession.

Those news stories scared me the most.

But, I just never thought it could happen to me. Then again... nobody ever thinks it'll be them. Nobody.

...Not until it is them, at least.

I wished to control my emotions, but I couldn't stop the streams that raced down my face.

I cried silently this time— now aware that West could hear a lot more from his room than I thought he could.

I sat crisscross on my bed, staring at the wall in front of me as my tears made my face raw.

I didn't even know why I was crying anymore.

How could I make this feeling go away?

I laid down, wishing I had refused to go with Ian.

He didn't come to rescue me like he said he would.

I dug my fingernails deep into my palms as I clenched my fists together, trying to let the pain distract me from my emotions.

I hated him.

Images of Ian entering the bathroom flashed in my mind, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

He was nothing more than a coward.

I couldn't control my noise this time as I let a scream fumble through my lips.

I pressed my face into a pillow, screaming the loudest I could.

The force of my scream pulsated through my head, further angering my concussion.

My wails came out ragged and muffled, the pillow concealing all but a few groans.

My screams then turned into whimpers, and I pulled my face away from the pillow, allowing my tears to fall freely.

I failed myself.

I hated myself.

How could I let this happen.

It's all my fucking fault.

I laid motionless, hours passing by as I stared lifelessly at my clock, watching it shift from minute to minute.

School was tomorrow.

At around 5 PM, I heard a small knock on the door.

I didn't say anything, staring at the door as it cracked open slowly.

Lance's head popped through, "Hey," He smiled widely, staring at my drained body that laid under the covers.

I didn't reply, turning over and facing away from him.

I heard him sigh as he walked over to the side of the bed I was laying on, sitting down beside me.

He lifted a hand to rub my back and I flinched, looking up at him with wide eyes.

He stared back, confused by my actions. But, gently recoiled his hand, "You alright?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

I stared at the alarm clock, "Yeah," I whispered, shifting beneath the covers.

I heard him begin to tap his foot on the ground, "You didn't come out of your room at all yesterday," He said with a hint of something in his voice.

Was that... concern?

I could feel his gaze burning a hole in the side of my head.

My brain rattled from his voice, but I held back a wince from the discomfort.

"I didn't feel well," I replied, not giving much of an explanation.

Lance nodded slowly, bringing his hand to my face a rubbing a finger down my cheek.

"You think you're coming down with something?" He asked in a silky voice— one that made me want to curl up and let him hold me like he used to do when I was younger.

I inhaled slowly, allowing his gentle touch, "Ya. Maybe," I mumbled.

If he considered self-loathing and shame "coming down with something", then sure.

His lips pulled to the side as his thumb moved up and down my cheek.

He was staring, and it was then that I knew he could see that my cheeks were blistered red with tender patches. But, to my surprise, he didn't comment on it.

"You wanna eat a little?" He asked with a sheepish smile, his eyes searching my face for any sort of emotion.

I bit at my lips, gnawing them.

My body flinched at the feeling of them in the grasp of my teeth.

Even my own lips disgusted me.

They had been violated and used.

I wished I could tear them away and get new ones.

"No," I responded quietly, "I'm not hungry."

Lance sighed, "But, you haven't eaten at all today. You never came down for breakfast or lunch..." He trailed off in a concerned tone.

I glanced up at him, "Food makes me nauseas."

"—I'm pretty sure you didn't eat all day yesterday either..." He continued, ignoring my statement.

I gave an agitated sigh, shooting a glare up at his gentle eyes that only wanted to care for me.

"I said, food makes me nauseas," I repeated, my voice cold and venomous.

His eyes then flashed with deep concern and he stared into me. His line of vision flickered back and fourth, taking in my full appearance as he searched my face.

He could tell I had been crying.

Everything about my demeanor screamed it to him; eyes red and puffy, face flushed; all things telling him he supposedly needed to come and play hero.

"Will you at least humor me for a bite of food?" He asked after a while of bitter silence, "Chase made some chicken noodle soup... It'd probably make you feel better."

I gnawed on my lips again, tearing off bits of dead skin.

I knew Lance wasn't going to leave without me by his side. I was currently his mission.

I shifted my eyes back to his, accepting my fate, "Okay," I mumbled, holding back the protests I had to stay in my room.

Lance grinned at me, standing up from my bed and holding out a hand for me to grab.

My body fell slack as I stared at his hand—envisioning Wyatt's hand outstretched to me as I sat fearfully in the corner of the bathroom.

I blinked, snapping myself out of this daze and standing up for myself.

Lance slowly took back his hand, trying not to show that my refusal of his help bothered him.

He walked out of my room with me following right behind him.

We went down the stairs and into the kitchen where all of our brothers sat around the counters.

I walked behind Lance's tall figure, subconsciously attempting to hide myself.

I looked drained.

My eyes blood shot, my face limp of all feeling.

Lance shifted to the side, revealing my presence to the rest of our family.

All the boys turned to steal glances at me.

"Ah! She's alive!" Chase cheered loudly as he caught sight of me.

Chase.

My eyes watched his actions closely as he went to a pot sitting on our stove, ladling some soup into a bowl for me.

He placed a spoon in the bowl and walked over to me.

I looked at him as he handed me the bowl, "Another one of Mom's recipes," He said, offering me a grin.

My chest tightened.

Guilt.

"Thank you," I muttered, beginning to turn around with the bowl now in my possession.

"Where you goin'?" A sharp voice asked with a small laugh.

Lucas.

His words made my skin crawl— them being unfortunately similar to Matteo's.

"...Back to my room?" I asked, my back still to them.

"Stay," Lucas spoke up again— this time gentle and welcoming.

I sucked in a shaky breath, turning around to face my brothers with a broken expression.

A room of men is really not where I needed to be right now. Every rough noise reminded me of him...

Reminded me of Matteo.

"Okay," I forcefully agreed, keeping my eyes glued to the ground as I rose a spoonful of soup to my mouth.

The heat of the soup burned the cracks in my lips, stinging the places I had relentlessly gnawed at.

I ignored the uncomfortable tingling, listening as my brother's conversations continued.

"How was the party, guys? I never got the chance to ask," Chase began, addressing the question towards the three youngest.

West's eyes brightened at the mention of the party, "Dude, it was so fun," He said with excitement in his voice, "Quinn really does throw the best parties. She always has so much alcohol, I literally got so plastered," He said with a satisfied nod of his head, slurping up another spoonful of soup.

Flynn chuckled in agreement, "Yea, it was fun. West was pretty fucking shit-faced. He was dancing like I had never seen before," He laughed at West, nudging his shoulder.

The two boys exchanged a look, both grinning from ear to ear with each other.

"Yeah," West nodded back at Flynn, "I had a great time, but Kade over here had an even better time," He said, giving a seductive wiggle of his eyebrows in Kade's direction.

Kade let out a hardy laugh, leaning back on the counter he was near, "Of course I did," He gave a low whistle.

My stomach churned uncomfortably.

Him. The hallway. The girl.

Lance then looked at Kade with excited eyes, "Let me guess, you got some action?"

Lucas stared at Kade, his eyes granting him with a 'good job' type of look.

Kade smirked over at his older brothers, basking in their approval, "Oh god, guys..."

He drew out a sigh, his eyes wandering off in the memories of last night, "You have no idea, that girl was so hot," Kade roused, causing my brothers to let out chants of adoration.

My hands quivered at the topic of conversation, but I found myself unable to tune out the whoops and hollers that came from them.

"Yeah, thanks a lot for that," Flynn spoke up over our brothers' noise, glaring at Kade playfully, "She was supposed to come home with me before you stepped in with your whole 'popular boy' act."

This caused Lucas to snort a laugh.

I don't know how he could be laughing... I found it... Well, I found it sickening.

"Do you even remember her name?" Lucas asked Kade with a raise of his eyebrows.

Kade gave a lop-sided smile in return, his mind churning for an answer, "Uh, maybe like, Bella?"

Flynn scoffed in annoyance, "Her name was Brooklyn," He said, giving Kade a disappointed shake of his head.

Chase rolled his eyes at Kade, being the only one besides Flynn to not grant him with praise.

Kade chuckled back, "Her name doesn't matter anyways. She was an easy fuck. You could probably get with her at the next party if you're really so butt-hurt about me snatching her. Although, you'll have to deal with the fact that you're getting my sloppy seconds," Kade said cockily, a wide smirk adorning his face.

Time stopped.

I watched helplessly as my fingers fell limp at Kade's comment. And, before I knew it, my hands quivered and all I could do was watch as the bowl of soup fell from my grasp.

My heart pounded in my ears as I watched the bowl go down, down, down. But, all I could focus on were those cruel words Kade spoke.

Easy fuck. Sloppy seconds.

The bowl shattered violently at my feet, soup spilling all over the floor.

The noise of the breaking bowl caused me to flinch even though I had anticipated the fall.

It was the noise of the crash that shocked me, especially the painful silence that immediately accompanied it.

I stared down at the floor in surprise, my body unable to move.

I felt the boys' attention rapidly shift to me as we all stirred in the complete absence of sound.

They gazed at the broken bowl on the floor, confusion evident in their stares.

"Violet," Chase's voice floated throughout the quiet room. He was the only one to rush and clean up the mess on the ground.

He squatted, gathering he shards of the bowl while glancing up at me with narrowed eyes.

I stood frozen.

Calm down Violet, my self conscious attempted to soothe me.

The boys looked at me with wide eyes, all beckoning for me to say something.

Slowly, I rose my eyes resentfully towards Kade.

He looked at me with his lips slightly parted, eyes squinting at me in question.

My eyes narrowed at him, burning in a type of rage that was unknown to me.

I couldn't control my actions, and before I could stop myself, my lips were moving.

"That girl would probably hate herself if she heard the way you're talking about her," I said shakily, balling my fists at my sides.

I wanted to hurt him. Punch him right in the jaw. I didn't know what had come over me, but all I did know was that Kade was the type of man I despised— If I could even call Kade a man.

In reality, he was only a mere boy.

An immature, selfish, little boy who used girls like his very own chew toy.

I had no idea what made boys think talking about girls this way was in any form acceptable. I had always hated those type of boys, and it was now painstakingly apparent that my very own brother was one of them.

Kade stared back at me without words to offer, his eyes wide in shock.

The rest of our brothers' eyes lingered on me, watching as my eyes welled with tears once more.

Oh god, not now please.

I sniffled, trying to force my tears not to fall in front of everyone.

"...What's up with you?" Lucas spoke for the group.

His voice was tender, but images of him at the club flashed in my mind.

He was not a good man.

I looked around the room, realizing that everyone wasn't just staring at me out of curiosity. They were looking at me cautiously; watching my every action with concern.

They could see the quiver of my lower lip, the way I repeatedly balled my fists and released them, hear the tremor in my voice.

My face flushed vacant of all color, "Nothing..." I answered slowly.

I had to get out of here.

I shook my head, turning on my heel and heading quickly out of the kitchen.

Nobody protested my leave, but I could hear their murmurs as I left the room.

"She must be on her period or something..." Flynn mumbled.

I heard the unsure sigh of Lance, "Maybe," He responded.

"No... I don't think it's that," Kade added.

I clenched my teeth, picking up my pace as I sprinted up the stairs.

He saw me that night.

He saw me standing there.

He knew something was wrong.

My nostrils flared as I walked down the hallway to my bedroom.

I looked at Kade's door; remembering the images of him pressing that poor, unsuspecting girl up against the door.

He used her.

He didn't even know her fucking name.

I shook my head as I entered my room, flopping down on my bed.

I rolled over to dig through my side table drawer, pulling out a bottle of Advil.

I unscrewed the lid, popping three into my mouth and dry swallowing them.

I slumped back down on my bed, waiting for my headache to lessen so that I could drift away and forget all about reality.