Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Beaten and Broken  

**Noah’s POV**

My sneakers dragged on the cracked pavement, each step heavier than the last. My school bag slipped off my shoulder, hitting the ground with a dull thud. I didn’t bother picking it up. I just sank to my knees, my hands shaking as I touched my lip. Blood smeared my fingers, warm and sticky. The sting was sharp, but it wasn’t the worst pain I’d felt today. Not even close.

Footsteps crunched behind me, too close, too fast. My stomach twisted. I didn’t need to look to know who it was. I pushed myself up, legs wobbling, and turned to face them. Three guys from school stood there, their faces twisted with smirks that made my skin crawl. Jake, the ringleader, stepped forward, his broad shoulders blocking the streetlight. His buddies, Matt and Cory, flanked him like dogs waiting for a command.

“Well, well, Noah Evans,” Jake said, his voice low and mocking. “Thought I told you to stay away from my girl, didn’t I?”

I coughed, the taste of blood thick in my mouth. “I don’t even talk to Cara,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I don’t like her, Jake. Never have.”

Jake laughed, a sharp, ugly sound that echoed down the empty street. “You hear that, boys? He says he doesn’t like her.” He stepped closer, his breath hot with the smell of cheap beer. “Then why’s she always talking about you, huh? Why’s my girl got your name in her mouth?”

I shook my head, my heart pounding. “I don’t know, man. I swear, I don’t—”

Matt shoved a phone in my face before I could finish. The screen glowed, showing a video of Cara at some party, laughing, her arm around some guy. She was saying my name, giggling about how I helped her with math homework once. That was it. One stupid study session in the library, and now I was here, bleeding on the street.

Jake’s eyes darkened as the video looped. “You think you’re smart, Noah? Think you can play me?”

“I’m not playing anyone!” I snapped, my voice louder than I meant. Fear and anger tangled in my chest. “I don’t want trouble. Just leave me alone.”

Cory laughed this time, cracking his knuckles. “Too late for that.”

Before I could move, Jake’s fist slammed into my stomach. The air rushed out of me, and I doubled over, gasping. Another punch caught my jaw, sending me sprawling to the ground. My bag skidded a few feet away, spilling books across the pavement. I tried to crawl toward it, but Matt’s boot connected with my ribs, and pain exploded through my body.

“Stay down, loser,” Matt said, spitting on the ground next to me. “Next time, it’s your face we break. Or worse.”

I curled up, arms over my head, waiting for more. But Jake just leaned down, his voice a low growl. “This is your warning, Noah. Cross me again, and you’re dead.”

Their footsteps faded, and I lay there, the cold pavement biting into my cheek. My whole body ached, but I forced myself to sit up. People passed by on the sidewalk, their eyes flicking to my bloody lip and torn jacket. Some looked sorry, others just curious, but nobody stopped. Why would they? I was just Noah, the kid who didn’t matter.

I grabbed my bag, wincing as I slung it over my shoulder. Every step toward my apartment felt like a mile. The closer I got, the louder the music got—some old rock song blasting through the thin walls of our building. My stomach sank. Dad was home. And if the music was that loud, he was already drunk.

I stood outside our door, staring at the chipped paint. My hands shook as I reached for the knob. Maybe I could sneak past him, get to my room before he noticed. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad. But deep down, I knew better.

The door creaked as I pushed it open. The living room was a mess—empty beer cans on the coffee table, a pizza box on the floor, and Dad sprawled on the couch, his eyes half-closed. He looked like he was about to pass out, but then his head snapped up, and those bloodshot eyes locked on me.

“Noah,” he slurred, sitting up straighter. “Where the hell you been? It’s late.”

I froze, one foot on the stairs to my room. “I… I had to stay late at school,” I lied, keeping my voice low. “Study group.”

He snorted, grabbing a beer can and crushing it in his fist. “Study group, my ass. Get over here.”

My heart raced, but I turned back, stepping into the living room. The smell of stale beer and sweat hit me hard. I kept my eyes on the floor, hoping he’d just yell and let me go. “I’m tired, Dad. Can I just—”

“Shut up!” he barked, standing up. He wobbled, catching himself on the arm of the couch. “You think you can stroll in here whenever you want? Eating my food, living under my roof for free?”

Anger flared in my chest, hot and sharp. I was so tired of this. Tired of him, tired of being his punching bag. “I work, Dad,” I said, my voice shaking. “I pay for half the stuff here. Why do you always act like I’m some kind of sin?”

His face twisted, and for a second, I thought he might laugh. But then his hand shot out, grabbing my jacket and yanking me forward. “You calling me a liar, boy?” he shouted, his breath sour in my face. “You’re a disgrace! I regret the day you were born!”

The words cut deeper than Jake’s fists. My eyes burned, and I couldn’t stop the tears. “Yeah?” I yelled back, my voice cracking. “Well, I regret having a father like you!”

Time seemed to stop. His eyes widened, and I knew I’d gone too far. I turned to run for the stairs, my heart pounding in my ears. I just needed to get to my room, lock the door, and—

Something heavy crashed against my head. Pain exploded, sharp and blinding, and I heard glass shatter. My legs gave out, and I hit the floor, my vision swimming. The last thing I saw was Dad standing over me, a broken bottle in his hand, his face a blur of rage.

Then everything went black.