I've been on shift at Stan's Brewery for about two hours now, standing behind the cash register as I made fortune tellers out of old receipts. It's been a slow Wednesday night, not too many people stopping by today.

After Jace's breakdown last night, we've been talking to each other like normal again. He was able to open up to me on how he truly felt, and I've been able to help him get through what he's going through.

I easily cleaned up his knuckles last night, using ice to help with the swelling and peroxide to disinfect it. I also applied a small amount vaseline to speed up the healing process. The blood was dry so it was easy to wipe away with a wet rag, but his knuckles were still slightly bruised and his fingers had a few cuts on them.

As of right now, the holes in Jaces wall were hidden behind a large picture frame we found in a storage closet. We couldn't afford to fix it, so we were waiting until I earned more money to get the materials needed for it. The holes in his wall were not a priority right now because we were still struggling to afford food.

I was drawing on the back of my hand with a black pen, drawing a small flower, and shading it to give the petals more detail. I was working on the stem when I was interrupted by the small bell ringing above the door, revealing someone had just walked in.

I set the pen down and lifted my gaze up to see Karson standing there, studying the coffee shop. My mouth went dry and I groaned, not wanting to talk to anyone, let alone Karson.

His eyes found mine and a look of anger flashed across his face when he realized it was me. He strode up to where I was standing, his hands against the counter as he slightly leaned forward. I wasn't affected with his attempt in trying to frighten me.

"What do you want?" I met his eyes before studying his appearance. He was wearing a fitted white tee that hugged his body perfectly, enhancing his muscles. His tattoos were on display, the dark ink covering every inch of his biceps. I looked up and caught his emerald eyes staring at me with a look of disgust hidden behind them.

"I'll just have a medium coffee, black," he pushed his body back and crossed his broad arms over the other. I quickly typed it in the system and told him how much he had to pay.

He quickly gave me cash and stared at me with a glint curiosity in his eyes. He looked me up and down before connecting our gaze once more.

"You can leave now. We'll bring your coffee to you," he didn't answer, he just continued to stare. "Why do you keep staring at me? Run along Ryder."

"Princess, that's no way to talk to your customer," he stated, a sly smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

I grit my teeth. "Just move please. I have more orders to take."

He glanced behind him, his eyebrows furrowing in amusement when he realized there was no one standing behind him. "You sure about that?"

"Yes I am. My dead dad comes here everyday to order," I responded sarcastically, trying to get him to stop talking to me. My eyes held a bored expression, but on the inside, rage was pulsing through my veins.

"Dead dad? That explains a lot. No wonder you act like this," he muttered, choking out a small laugh.

I snapped my head up to him, fury welling up in my chest. I could feel myself get riled up as he spoke about my dad. I kept my head held high, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of how much his words affected me.

"You know what Karson? Why don't you go outside and take a smoke like the pussy you are? Or maybe go fuck a few girls because that's all your good for, just a good fuck," I trembled with rage, my hands shaking beneath me as adrenaline coursed through my blood.

His fists clenched in rage as his eyes narrowed into slits. His breathing was heavy and he leaned forward once again. "You fucking bitch. Did you get your bitchy attitude from your dead dad too? Did he kill himself to get away from you? Because I sure as hell would too-"

"You fucker!"

"Woah, what's going on here?" Stan questioned as he walked up behind me. My breathing was ragged and my heart was pounding in my rib cage. He looked between Karson and I, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared at Karson.

I ignored Stan and shoved Karsons coffee into his chest. "Get the fuck out."

He didn't say another word, he just walked away and roughly shoved the door open. When he was gone, my breathing was finally able to slow down.

I looked to stan as a lump began to form in the back of my throat. "I'm going to go to the bathroom real quick. I need to freshen up my makeup," I smile, trying to keep the tears from falling.

A frown crawled onto his face. "Darling-"

"I'm fine, Stan," I cut him off.

I stumbled as I walked away from Stan, slowly making my way towards the bathroom. One tear fell down as I trudged towards the opposite direction.

You're better than this Dak, keep it in.

I couldn't hold it in any longer as my hand covered my mouth, trying to keep the sobs down.

I shoved the bathroom door open, grateful no one else was in here. I quickly walked into a bathroom stall, fumbling with the lock as I tried to turn it. Once I got it, I slowly slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor. I wrapped my arms around my knees and I sobbed into my hands. My body trembled as tears rapidly fell down my rosy cheeks.

I cried because of my mother, I cried for Jace, and I cried because of Karson. I just let it out in a coffee shop's bathroom. How pathetic.

I looked up to the lights, holding my head up, trying to get the tears to stop. My hand still covered my mouth, trying to keep the sobs quiet. I couldn't remember the last time I cried, but when Karson said those things about my dad, I completely broke. The things I said to him just slipped out, I was just too angry to keep my mouth shut.

The tears eventually stopped falling and now I was just staring at the stall door in front of me. My eyes felt puffy and I could hear the pulse ringing in my ears. The tears stained my cheeks, ruining the little makeup I put on today.

I sat on the bathroom floor for a good 20 minutes before I was able to gain my composure, shaking as I slowly stood up. My legs felt weak, but I managed to get up with the help from the wall beside me.

I unlocked my stall door and stepped out, heading straight towards the mirror. I sighed as I saw the blonde girl staring back at me with puffy, red eyes. I lifted my shaky hand and turned the faucet on, the warm water soothing my skin. I splashed water onto my face and used a napkin to dab my skin clean.

The mascara that was running down my face was no longer noticeable, only my bloodshot eyes. I looked in the mirror one last time, practicing my fake smile I would wear when I walked out of the bathroom.

I was able to perfect my smile, so I decided it was time to finally get back before Stan got worried. I pushed open the door and stepped out, oddly welcomed with an empty coffee shop. Not many people were here tonight so I didn't know why I was so surprised to see no one sitting in our booths.

I made my way towards Stan who is in the kitchen, baking a fresh batch of lemon cookies. He stopped folding the dough when he felt my presence, looking up to see a young girl with red eyes. He set his materials down and slowly walked over to me.

"You look like you've been crying dear," he mentioned as his chocolate eyes scanned over my face.

"Just allergies, you know," I sniffed, so close to breaking down once again.

He shook his head, not believing a word I say, but he also didn't push it. "Why don't you take the rest of the night off. Go home, darling."

"Are you sure? I can help you make some cookies if you would like," I offered, feeling bad for leaving him alone.

"I'm certain, Dakota. Go home before I change my mind," he smiled. "I'll be fine by myself, I promise. Just because I'm old doesn't mean I can't close my own damn shop by myself."

"Alright, if you say so," I sighed, the pounding in my head growing louder. I felt my body sway, the dizziness making my head spin as my vision got slightly blurry. I steadied myself by placing my hand on the counter for a few seconds.

Stan looked at me with worried eyes. "Go home Dakota."

I nodded my head, stumbling out of the kitchen. I couldn't get out any words because I was too focused on trying not to faint. I made my way towards the front door, pushing it open as the cool breeze hit my face.

I got to my car, shivering as I sat down. I immediately started rummaging through my bag, trying to find pain meds. My shaky hand grasped the bottle of Advil, pouring two into the palm of my hand before swallowing the pills and chasing it down with water.

I wasted no time as I put my car into drive, speeding off into the night. I rubbed my forehead as I had one hand tightly wrapped around the steering wheel. The sharp pain in my head was increasing, the pain medicine doing absolutely nothing. I was so focused on the pounding in my head, that I didn't realize how fast I was going. I was going 20 over the speed limit.

"Fuck," I cursed, slowly releasing my foot from the gas peddle.

I slowed down and leaned my throbbing head against the seat. I put my hand back on the wheel and drove in silence the rest of the way home.

I thought about my dad, memories resurfacing as I dug deep inside my mind. The memories I wanted to keep buried so bad were finally finding their way back to the surface. I hid them, wanting to get rid of them, but Karson triggered those memories, so they all came flooding back.

The memories of how my mother acted before my father passed, the memories of when my mother first hit me, and the memories of when my mother first laid a hand on Olivia.

I grit my teeth, remembering the first time my mother had hit Olivia.

My body was so weak. I was sprawled out on the ground, blood pouring out of my nose from where my mother had punched me. The swelling of my throat made it hard for me to breathe. I could feel the bruises my mothers hands left on my throat start to form.

The way her hands wrapped around my neck as she looked at me with an evil glint in her eye made me fear for my life. She could've killed me if she crushed my airway just a second longer.

"Dakota?" I heard a small voice call out to me, the sound of small footsteps running down the stairs.

I slowly lifted my head up to see Olivia running towards me. I gathered enough strength to push myself up against the nearest wall by me. I dragged my body upwards and leaned against the beige colored wall.

My three year old sister stared at me with big eyes. She looked at the marks on my neck and her eyes slowly traveled up to see the blood pouring out of my nose.

"Baby, you need to go upstairs right now. Mom can't know you're down here, please," I begged, a lump forming in the back of my throat as the thought of my mother hurting Liv crossed my mind.

Just as my little sister was about to respond, I saw my mother round the corner, stopping when she spotted Liv. Her mouth curled into a disgusting smirk and she lunged towards Olivia.

Olivia didn't see our mother because her back was faced towards her. My mother grabbed Olivia's waist and captured her in her arms. Olivia screamed and thrashed around in her arms, struggling to get out of her hold.

"No! Let her go!" I struggled, trying to move, but my body was so weak that I couldn't.

Olivia's cries filled the room as she leaned down to bite our mother. Our mother screamed in pain as she roughly dropped Olivia to the ground.

Olivia couldn't get her feet under her body in time, so she fell to the ground, her back connecting with the hard tile. She screamed out in pain as her head bounced off the tile.

I cried out as my mother glared at me before kicking me in the ribs to shut me up. I curled into myself as I heaved, the breath getting knocked out of me. I coughed, trying to regain my composure as I watched my mother head towards Olivia.

"Please," I coughed out, clawing at my stomach.

My mother strode towards Olivia and slapped her in the face with so much force that it knocked her out.

I screamed as I watched my three year old sister's eyes roll into the back of her head. My mother just laughed as she watched her petite body become limp.

My throat became sore as I cried at Olivia to wake up. I felt so useless because I couldn't move, my body physically wouldn't let me. My mother glanced in my direction, and just smiled. She carefully stepped over Olivia's body and grabbed a beer from the fridge.

I finally gathered enough strength and pushed my body to its limits to crawl over to Olivia.

"Oh God," I trembled, studying her chest to make sure she was still breathing. She was only three years old and this much pain on her body could cause severe damage.

"Get the fuck away from her," my mother roared as she kicked me in the ribs once more. I coughed and fell back down on the floor, black dots covering my vision. She pounded her foot in my ribs one last time, knocking me out cold next to my baby sister.

I clenched my jaw as I vividly remembered the look Olivia gave me that day. The fear in her eyes when she was grabbed by our mother will forever haunt me. To this day, I still felt guilty because I wasn't able to stop our mother. Another tear escaped my eye, the memories becoming too much as my mind replayed all the terrifying moments I've had with my mother.

How could someone ever lay a hand on a fucking three year old? The thought disgusted me as I finally turned on my street. The thought lingered on my mind for the rest of the night, keeping me wide awake, not being able to shut my brain off.

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