Scarlet's P.O.V.

I scream, "Dad," as he looms over me, gripping his belt firmly in his left palm. "Dad please," I join my trembling hands pleading with him to stop hitting. "Daddy,"

"Don't call me dad!" He snapped as I flinched back as the belt hit the hard marble floor. 

No one ever came to my aid; instead, they all simply locked themselves in their rooms, knowing that they would be his next target the moment they got involved. "S-Sorry, Sir." "Sorry," I tremble as blood seeping from my back starts to get sticky on my sweater.

"I wish you were never fucken born!" Dad yelled as I curled up into a ball in the corner of the living room, "Such a fucking disgrace to this family, a disgrace to our name, a disgrace to the whole world."

Tears ran down my cheeks, as hair stuck to my face due to me sweating as I got beat mercilessly. "Sorry," I whispered, "I am sorry." I never asked to come into this world. . .at times I wished I was born in a different family. . .a loving one. Where I wasnt considered a maid, or some punching bag whenever something went wrong. 

"Ugh!" He grunted throwing the belt to the ground, before turning his back to me, "Clean this fucking room."

"Y-Yes Sir," Swallowing harshly I slowly stand up holding onto the wall leaving a bloody handprint behind me. A few minutes later Mom came out of the room with painful tears in her eyes. 

When she noticed the handprint, she gasped and hurried to me, helping me to the sofa. The moment her fingers touched my back, I gasped, "Ow," Although I don't blame her for hiding, I do fault her for never leaving—she only stayed because of the money and the amenities. At one point in time, Dad beat her, Archer, and Jaxon. I was the only one who was weak now that others had outgrown him, and this had become a daily occurrence. The punching bag would be me if something had gone wrong in his actual business or his illicit business.

"I am sorry," Mom whimpered, "I am so fucking sorry Lettie," She pulled me up against her, making sure not to apply too much pressure on my wounds.  "Sorry,"

I don't know when I fell asleep in her arms to see how much blood I had lost, but the last thing I heard was, "I'mma get you out of her, I will baby."   Her voice sounded so determined, but she and I both knew, there was no escape from my father. . .or his gang, the Ghost Riders. 

. . .

"Lettie?" Mom knocked on my bedroom door, "Lettie, honey you are going to be late for school." Graoning I looked at the time and saw that it was 8:30 am when I rolled to my side rather than lying on my stomach. "Lettie!"

 "You know how mad your father will get if you miss another class," she said, knocking on the door more forcefully. Her threat made me roll my eyes. When did he not get upset with me? I shrieked when Jax lifted me off the ground last night, and my back hurt so much that I honestly believed he had seriously injured me.

Swallowing harshly I will myself off the bed and sluggishly walk over to the door, unlocking it. It hurt to walk, but it wasnt like she cared, all she wanted to do was to stay on Dad's good side so she didnt get the treatment that I got yesterday. "Let me see," Her eyes were always full of regret, but there was no point in looking for hope in her because I knew she wouldnt be able to do anything. I turned around as she slowly began lifting my shirt up, "They seem okay," She whispered. 

I take a step away from her, "Do I have to go today?" 

"Yeah, you do." Archer said glaring at me, "Dad is not paying for your tuition to miss half of the semester's classes." Meet my elder and obnoxious brother. He hated me as well, for what exact reason, no one really knew. . .I was just as terrified of him as I was of Dad. 

Jax and Mom were the only ones that I truly trusted in this house, my gaze dropped to the ground afraid of meeting his harsh one. "Get dressed, Jaxon will drop you off."

I gave them a boring "Okay," and then I left them both and went into the restroom. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I felt disgusted. My eyes were swollen from crying, my back was sore, my lips were chapped from how loudly I was pleading with my father for forgiveness, and my complexion was pale because I hadn't eaten anything in the previous 24 hours. There were both fresh and old scars all over my back.

"Hurry the fuck up!" Archer snapped causing me to flinch in fear, even though there was a door separating him and me. My hands began shaking, "Jaxon has to meet me at the drop site in less than an hour, Dad told me to get you to school and then continue on with our regular business."

"Ace," Mom snapped at him, "She has had enough." 

Ace scoffed, "Well you should have thought about that before you brought her into this world Mom." I heard his heavy footsteps storm away, as I muffled my cries with my mouth. Silently sliding down the shower door, I stare at the monotoned-colored cabinet. 

What have I done so wrong that I am so hated by my own brother and father. . . 

Maybe he was right. . .maybe I should have never come into this world. . .

. . .

"Get out," Jax growled roughly; clearly, none of them awoke in a good mood. Keeping quiet, I unbuckle my seat belt and gently exit the car, which he reluctantly brought because Dad requested him to meet Archer at the location with his bike. I grabbed my belongings and shut the door behind me without saying goodbye, not that it mattered to him, for he drove away before I could take a step away from the car.

Everyone's attention was drawn to me almost immediately, and while anxiously fiddling with my butterfly ring, I looked around for Beatrix Solomons, the only friend I'd made in my 21 years of life. She is the daughter of Dad's best friend, Carter Solomons, who assisted him in establishing his empire first in the underworld and subsequently in society. Fear of the Ghost Riders enabled him to pick and choose his business in the media industry. Clyde Media had grown rapidly in the early 1990s as a result of the fear he generated in the city of Vancouver, British Columbia. His business deals with drugs illegally, and he sells a lot of them to A-listers rather than the homeless.

I didn't like the work he did, I-I mean if he. stuck to just Media it would be different, but the basis of Clyde Media, is black money, the blood of the innocent, and a bunch of power, based on fear. 

"Scarlett!" Beatrix waved her arm wildly in an attempt to get my attention, which she did successfully, allowing me to breathe a sigh of relief. I tried to walk to her as quickly as possible, but the constant pinching sensation in my lower spin made that impossible. Bea was aware of the violence; it was not uncommon in her household, but Uncle Carter had stopped, as evidenced by Auntie Kat's stopped coming to "family" dinners with bruises on her face.

Her eyes brows furrowed as I limped towards her, "Uncle Ross?" She asked 

Uncomfortable with that question, I just nodd not wanting to elaborate on exactly what he did. Bea sighed lending out her hand for me to use for support. "Thanks," I whispered. 

Bea just kept quiet as we got to our first class, "I don't understand why you still live there." She said, "Look at me, I moved out ages ago."  I didnt have a choice, the last time I asked to move out it resulted in a beating worse than the one I had gotten last night. 

"Just drop it," I answer her, 

"Lettie," She took my hand again drawing my attention to the scars on the inner part of my wrist. I do not harm myself. . .at least not anymore, but once upon a time circumstances were so much worse than this, I had no choice but to turn towards that option to numb out the pain. "Live with me, Uncle Ross doesnt want you to live alone right?"

"Right," 

"Then let my dad speak to him, he has guards outside of my apartment complex all the time, I do not leave that building without him getting notified. Come on, at least try."  I have tried, but that just made his anger worse. "At the family dinner tonight, we both will tell the family."

I shake my head, "Let me talk it over with Mom first," I tell her, "So even if things go south, at least I have an alibi." Not like she will do anything, but the brunt of the anger will go towards her. "Please?"

Bea sat back in her seat as more people piled into the room, "Fine, but you have got to let me help you escape that hell hole."

Little do you know Bea, not so long ago I tried and it ended up in a total and utter. . .

Disaster.