I rip my arm away. “Don’t do that.” “I’m just—” “I don’t like to be touched.” She swallows, her eyelashes fanning across her cheekbones as she blinks up at me. “You don’t like it, or you’re not used to it?” How about this: the one person in the world who was supposed to care for me, love me, protect me… abused the fuck out of me. Instead of hugs, I got hot cigarette butts to my skin, covering me in hideous scars. Instead of cuddles, I got a leather belt across my face. Instead of kisses, I got broken bones. And when I wasn’t being beaten down until I went numb, I was neglected. Locked inside a
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