"Please stop, Danny." I said, trying to hold back the tears.
"S-Shut the f-fuck up, whore!" Danny yelled in my face.
I hated when Danny came back from the bar hammered. He was always so mean and violent but he'd never hit me. I knew he wouldn't.
I watched as Danny began going through the house, destroying anything that he came in contact with. He was doing so good then all of a sudden he met her, that whore he'd been seeing behind my back for the past three months. It wasn't hard to figure up what he's been doing, he actually admitted to this to me. I tried leaving him but he always found a way to make me stay. I hated myself for that.
"Danny!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.
He spun around and glared at me. I was in for it, he didn't like when I shouted at him. Especially when he was drunk.
"Don't fucking yell at me, bitch!" he spat in my face, venom lacing every word he said.
I cowered but the phone rand and he backed away. I walked over to the phone and looked at the caller ID, Cameron. I looked back at Danny and he was still glaring at me.
"Say one word and you're dead."
"Hello?" I answered, trying not to sound like I was crying.
I gave the phone to Danny and ran upstairs, slamming the door behind me. Why did Danny have to be like this? I wished we stayed in London but Danny insisted on moving to Hollywood, to be closer to her. I needed to go back home.
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