Mr. Ragnar removed his belt and flung it. It landed straight on my face.
I froze. My hands flew up in shock, cupping my cheek. Tears spilled down uncontrollably. My red hair, once tied in a bun, slipped free and dropped over my shoulders. The pain on my face stung more with every rub. My lips parted slightly and began to bleed. I looked at my father, and he turned away like I was invisible.
I was still crying when Mrs. Ragnar stepped forward.
"Serves you right. Every person that came to the orphanage rejected you. They either said you were cursed or sick. And we brought you here still, you are so ungrateful," she said with a sneer.
She brought her little finger close to her thumb and pointed at me like I was nothing.
"Everywhere you went, you were rejected. At eighteen, your supposed mate rejected you for having no scent. If only we had known, we should have left you at the orphanage."
She turned her back and walked towards her husband.
"Throw her out. I've had enough. Just because she does a few chores, she thinks she owns this house."
Mr. Ragnar nodded like she was the one giving the orders.
"Little chores," I whispered under my breath, trying to hold back what was left of my tears. I looked away.
"Max," he called, voice deep. "Beat the hell out of her and throw her and her things out. How did we raise such a disrespectful girl?"
As if the hit to my face wasn't enough. It became clearer than ever that I was nothing more than a tool to them. Easy to use. Easy to discard. Or maybe I really was cursed. Because how else do you explain a life where nobody loves you? Why did mine have to turn out like this?
Max came down from where he had been watching. He didn't want to touch me at first, but his father gave an ultimatum. If he didn't do it, both of us would be thrown out. So he stomped on me while I curled into myself, using my hands to protect my face. It was the only good thing I had. My looks.
After stomping me, he grabbed my arm and dragged me out into the rain. Then, with zero emotion, he threw two hundred dollars at me.
"Use that for your injuries."
From inside the living room, I heard Mr. Ragnar's voice again.
"If we ever see you around this family again, near Jane or on this property, we'll file a police report."
Max turned his back on me and slammed the door shut.
I was left there, alone, in the pouring rain.
Over the years, they'd accused me of stealing, of things I never did. I should have walked away long ago, but I had nowhere to go. Even now, I have no place to run to. But maybe it's better this way. I was born to leave someday, right? I tried to comfort myself with those thoughts.
I stood up and grabbed my bag, walked to the garage mirror to look at myself.
My blue eyes were bloodshot. My red hair soaked and dripping. My amulet pendant tucked beneath my clothes. I was still wearing the black and white uniform Mrs. Ragnar had given me for house chores. I tried to smile at my reflection, but instead, more tears fell.
My lips were still bruised from the earlier hit. My face, red and aching, was something I had tried to protect while Max stomped on me. I didn't want it to get worse than it already was.
I stepped out and started walking. The rain poured harder, but I kept going. I had nowhere else to go. No friends. I decided to head to the motel down the street. Just for tonight. The money would only last me three days at most, including food, so I had to manage it. Maybe when I get to the motel, I'll ask if they have a first aid kit. I'll need to treat the wounds before they get infected.
On my way, a black car came speeding toward me. Way too fast. I jumped out of the way just in time, nearly falling to the ground. But the car still managed to splash a wave of dirty pavement water all over me.
As if my day hasn't been ruined enough already.
I looked at the car with clenched fists, anger boiling in me. I expected the driver to pull over and apologize. But no. He drove a little further, parked near the bus stop close to the motel, and stepped out as if nothing happened. He pulled out a cigarette from a silver case, lit it, and continued a phone conversation, completely ignoring me.
A bodyguard stood beside him, holding an umbrella over his head, even though he was already under a shaded area. Meanwhile, I was out here drenched to the bone.
He acted like I didn't even exist. Like I wasn't the person he just drenched. I stood there watching him, fists clenched.
I couldn't take it anymore.
I wasn't going to let another person walk all over me while I stood back and watched. I wasn't a fool.
With frustration rising in my throat, I pulled off one of my shoes and hurled it.
"Stupid car," I muttered.
The shoe hit the rearview mirror of the sleek Lamborghini. The glass cracked, then shattered, the mirror crashing down onto the pavement.
I gasped. I hadn't expected to actually break it. I just wanted to hit the car, not destroy it. But my aim was harder than I thought.
The moment the mirror hit the floor, the guy he looked like some gangster playboy started walking back toward the car with his bodyguard. I knew if I didn't run now, I'd be in serious trouble.
So I turned around and started to walk away quickly.
But the moment he saw the damage, he screamed, leaving the protection of the umbrella.
"What the fuccck!" he shouted.
He rushed toward the car, eyes wide in disbelief.
"What happened here? Who did this? Who the hell did this?"
He turned to his bodyguard, frustrated.
"Taurus, did you hit this car? Was it like this when you parked?"