Krys Fenner - Damaged

Damaged

Dark Road Series

Book Two

By

Krys Fenner

Damaged

by: Krys Fenner

Third Edition

Copyright 2017 by Krys Fenner

All rights reserved.

This book or any part thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any meanselectronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwisewithout prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

Published by

Two Worlds Publishing

https://two-worlds-publishing.com/

ISBN: 978-1-7329536-1-1

Cover Designer: Molly Phipps

Editor: Jamie Morris

Printed in the United States of America

Due to the content, language, and some violence, this book may not be suitable for anyone under the age of eighteen. This book may also trigger memories for survivors of any form of sexual assault including, but not limited to rape or sexual abuse.

I dedicate this novel to my mom. She has always been there for me and supported me when times were hard. This book would not have been possible without her. I love you, Mom.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked/copyrighted status and trademark/copyright owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks/copyrights is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark/copyright owners.

Finding Nemo, 2003, Disney

Twilight, 2012, Summit Entertainment

E.T., 1982, Universal Pictures

Thou shalt also consider in thine heart, that,

as a man chasteneth his son,

so the Lord thy God chasteneth thee.

Deuteronomy 8:5, King James Bible

Tattoo design by Freaky Deaky Designs

http://freakydeakydesigns.wix.com/home

Whats Left of Me

The filth just wont wash away;

I see what you left of me every day.

You cant begin to imagine the pain.

Hollowness has made its claim.

A small piece of my heart still remains,

But can I still give it away?

All the trust I had is gone.

Will I ever see a new dawn?

Written by: Bella Kynaston

Prologue

T he weight of the muscled body on top of hers overwhelmed all of her senses. No pain radiated from her shoulder down her arm. Her ribs no longer throbbed from the beating she received by her attackers. The broken bone shed suffered no longer bothered her. She felt nothing, not even the tears that prickled her eyes.

She was numb. All she could focus on was the large body brutally pounding into her for the second time. Or the third. Shed lost track. How long had they been behind that rancid dumpster? How long before her body caved from all the damage and she died? The man rammed into her one final time and moaned as he finished. She cried out at the invasion.

Bella gasped and bolted upright. Frantically, she scanned her surroundings. Bed to her left, closet to her right. Okay. She was on the floor of her bedroom, exactly where shed fallen asleep. It was just a nightmare. She tucked her knees against her chest. At least this time she didnt scream and wake her parents. Had they checked on her?

What time was it?

She peeked at her clock. It was only midnight. Meant shed slept about two hours. Bella rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Her parents were likely in bed for the night. She could quietly slip out of her bedroom and enjoy some time sitting in the bay window. Shed pop a couple of hydrocodone, too. They wouldnt kick in right away, but eventually they would help with the pain.

Wait. Noises echoed down the hall.

Leaning against her door, she listened closely to the voices. Bella frowned. Her parents were yelling at each other. Sounded like they were in her fathers office. Their words were too muffled for her make out. Gently, she cracked her door and tiptoed along the wall until she was close enough to hear.

I dont care what you think is going on. I will not hospitalize our daughter and alienate her any more than she already has been alienated, her mother said.

Bellas father replied, I dont believe it would cause more division in her life or in our family. It would be advantageous for all of us. She could get the care she needed.

Was that not the point of getting her to the psychiatrist you recommended?

Her father sighed, loudly. It was, but I suspect her sessions go nowhere. If she doesnt cope with what has transpired, things will get worse.

And if we send her to an institution, you dont think that will happen? Have you not considered what it would do to her if we took her away from her friends?

She doesnt spend time with them now!

Keep your voice down. Milena hissed. I will not discuss this with you any further. Your idea may be mentioned at our meeting with Dr. Filmore, tomorrow. But do not discuss it with our daughter before then.

Shit! Bella slipped back into her bedroom, closed the door, and lay back on the floor. When her door opened and the light shone in, she pretended to be asleep until it shut again. Whew. Just in time. God, how could her parents even have that kind of conversation? Would they really have her committed? It wasnt like she was psychotic. But her father viewed her as unstable.

Maybe he was right. He was the one with a counseling degree. She loved her mother for her protection, but Bella had to wonder, would she be better off in a mental institution? She considered the option. Theyd definitely make her stop taking the painkillers. And theyd probably monitor her every move. Make her talk about all the tragic events in her life. No, no, no. That would be awful. Shed have to convince her parents she was improvingand learn to hide the pain.

One

S wifty stared at the letter in his hands. He hadnt read it in quite some time. For his sixteenth birthday, he had been given the knowledge of his birth parents. The woman he had spent his life calling Madre was his caretaker, not his birth mother. The letter hed received on his birthday that year indicated his mother had died when he was just a child. As for his father, that was a story unto itself. For his safety, he had been tendered unto the woman he knew as his mother to be cared for. Although that first and second letter held a lot of vital information, the third letter, the one he had received nearly two and a half years ago, was the one that mattered the most. It was so important that he held it in his hands now, and read through it again.