From Ruin She Rose novel Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Memories flooded Emily, sparking a violent urge to destroy everything in sight. Though she still shielded her head, the look she threw Sean from beneath her arm burned with pure hatred.

Sean stiffened. “What’s that look for? You pushed Lydia down the stairs two years ago, and now you’re at it again. Someone needs to teach you manners.”

He seized her wrist and jerked hard. “Get over here and apologize to Lydia.”

Emily lurched forward as white-hot pain raced up her arm. She clenched her jaw, swallowing both the scream and the fury rising in her throat. “I already apologized, Mr. Sinclair. Please release me.”

Sean glanced at Lydia, who murmured, “She did apologize, and I forgive her.” But the tightness around her otherwise.

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Sean’s grip turned crushing. “Lydia, she could have killed you. One cheap apology doesn’t cut it.”

“That insincere apology changes nothing. She needs to learn her lessons.” His hand crushed down on Emily’s neck, forcing her forward. “Bow to Lydia. Apologize properly-now.”

The words “bow” and “learned lessons” struck Emily like a physical blow, leaving her face bloodless. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if Sean had been one of the bullies at St. Gabriel’s.

Emily trembled violently as she fought against Sean’s grip. “Let me go!” she demanded, her voice raw.

Sean only clamped down harder, intent on forcing her to bow.

Lucas frowned at the sight of Emily-pale, disheveled, on the brink of collapse. He moved to step in when a hand caught his

arm.

“Lucas, stop him!” Lydia’s voice trembled with concern. “Even if she pushed me down those stairs, I survived. I’m standing here, aren’t I?

“And at the mall… she probably didn’t mean to shove me in front of everyone. She just snapped when Vincent was kind to me. I understand.”

Though her voice carried forgiveness, her eyes held that particular hurt of someone forcing themselves to appear unaffected.

Lucas paused and stepped back. “Why defend someone ruled by jealousy?” he asked quietly. “You’re alive by chance, Lydia, not because she showed restraint.”

Sean looked down at Emily’s matted hair and ripped clothes, his mouth twisting in disgust. “If she truly regretted it, she wouldn’t have pushed you at the mall. She needs to bow to you and apologize. Sean’s right. Someone like her only understands punishment.”

Sean had maintained a careful pressure on Emily’s neck-enough to dominate but not enough to truly harm. She remained a Bennett, after all, and Lucas’s watchful presence had been the sole reason for his restraint.

Then Lucas voiced his approval. In that instant, every shred of Sean’s self-control disappeared.

Lucas, who had once shielded Emily from even harsh words, had just given him permission, so Sean saw no reason to restrain himself anymore.

His fist drove hard into Emily’s stomach. The punch landed with a hollow thump, knocking the air from her lungs.

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Pain radiated through her abdomen as she doubled over, gasping. The force sent her stumbling forward, her elbow cracking against the marble floor before her body crumpled in on itself.

Sean’s glare burned into Emily, his voice thick with venom. “You nearly killed Lydia. You should be grateful I haven’t thrown you off the roof. And after everything, you still won’t apologize? You’re shameless.”

He lunged forward, driving his foot into her ribs. “If I don’t teach you a lesson today, you can spit on my grave.”

White-hot pain exploded through her side, forcing her to curl inward, arms shielding her head and stomach.

But Sean wasn’t done. His fist came down like a hammer. “You shouldn’t have bullied Lydia, you worthless piece of trash. You almost murdered her, and you don’t even regret it. What kind of monster are you?”

Every blow, every vicious word dragged Emily back into the nightmare.

Suddenly she was back in that nightmare-surrounded by flying fists, stomping boots, and globs of spit raining down on her. Their taunts echoed in her ears, calling her garbage and utterly useless.

She’d tried hiding-under beds, in closets, once even in a rancid dumpster-but they’d always find her. And each time, the beatings grew worse, the curses more inventive.

At St. Gabriel’s, nothing came without a price. The teachers would trade a piece of bread, a bottle of water, or a single sausage as rewards for beating her hard enough.

Years of Emily’s pain, all those nights praying for death-none of it was worth more than scraps.

“Emily… Emily…” A voice cut through the haze.

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