Jasmine pov,

I hate him the most for this. How can he just do it? That’s hurting too much beyond my anger. Grabbing my book, I rested on the bed, lying on my stomach, but that’s burning like hell.

After an hour, he returned with a paper bag in his hand. I rolled my eyes away not to look at him.

He sat on the bed, shaking the hell out of me. The fear of getting hurt again made me crawl away from him.

He held my ankle and held me from crawling away.

“I’m reading,” I whimpered, hugging my book.

“I know, come here,” he smiled. I crawled to...