The Nerdy Omega’s Three Protectors 의 모든 챕터: 챕터 121 - 챕터 130

Macmillan's POV"You do not believe that Aiden went willingly to that house, right? Something isn't right," Jordan asked."Obviously. Aiden was happy with us, so why would he choose to go back to the one place that caused him so much pain? I think his parents are blackmailing him," Orlando muttered."If Aiden doesn't want to leave that house, there's nothing we can do. We can't call Child Protective Services on them because Aiden is not a child, and we can't go to the police to report them because Aiden clearly stated that he wasn't forced," I muttered."Can't your dad do anything? Send Aiden's parents to jail? He did a background check on Aiden, right? I'm pretty sure the information he gathered can put those people behind bars," Jordan suggested, eyes sparkling like he had just found a way out."The images my dad recovered from the investigation don't show Aiden's parents hitting him. It's mostly neighbors' testimony and pictures of Aiden with bruises. This could hold up in court, b

**Aiden's POV**Something tells me that message was from Macmillan and not his mother, but then what if it’s actually from his mother and not him? What if she really tripped and sprained her ankle?I stare at my door, I can't make use of it right now, I haven’t gone out since yesterday. I know the moment I open that door, they’re going to skin me alive.I’m going to use my window. It’s not that high, I'd rather break a few bones than argue with them right now. I changed into my hoodie and sweatpants, then slowly opened my bedroom window.Stepping one foot at a time, I jumped out of the window, landing in the bushes underneath.Without checking if I was injured or not, I tiptoed out of the house and ran far away before booking a taxi.I didn’t stop to check the cause of the pain I was feeling on my back and arm, even after I entered the taxi that took me to the hospital Mom was in.I texted her so she could give me directions to her room. She replied almost immediately. I don’t have a

**Aiden’s POV**My eyes darted around for anything I could use. Under the bed sat an old cardboard box, the one that held the things I’d once wished I could do with my step dad. Inside it was a baseball bat. I stretched for it just as he came down on top of me, trying to force himself on me.I snatched the bat up and swung hard. The wood cracked against his skull with a wet, sickening thud. He collapsed on top of me, palms pressed flat against the place I’d struck. Warm blood rolled down his face in thick, sticky streams and dripped onto my skin. The metallic scent hit me immediately, sharp, coating the back of my throat.I shoved him off and scrambled for the door for the third time, but his bloody hand clamped around the fabric of my joggers. The bat was still in my grip. I swung again. And again. And again. The impacts jarred up my arms. Splinters of wood mixed with the wet slap of blood. Everything I had ever said about wishing my parents would look at me with love in their ey

Aiden's POV The sleep never came, not really. I lay on the thin mattress bolted to the wall, wrists finally free of the cuffs but still feeling their shape, and watched the small window near the ceiling turn from black to gray to a flat, indifferent white. Someone brought a tray of food I didn't touch. Someone else came to take more photographs, this time of the bruises around my throat, close enough that I could feel their breath. It was almost noon when they moved me to a room with better light and a woman waiting behind a table stacked with folders that weren't Harlan's. "Aiden." She said my name like she'd practiced it. "My name is Renata Cole. I'll be representing you." "I didn't ask for a lawyer." "No," she agreed, sitting down slowly, the way you'd sit near something that might bolt. "But someone retained me on your behalf, and given what I've read in the preliminary report, you're going to want one whether you asked or not." I knew whose money had bought her before she

**Aiden’s POV**I gasped, my chest tight and crushing, the air in my lungs thin and useless. I was soaked in blood, my parents’ blood. They lay dead in front of me, eyes wide and glassy, staring at nothing. The metallic tang of it filled my nose; it was sticky and cooling against my skin, seeping into the fabric of my clothes. I scrambled backward on my hands, palms slipping in the wetness, until my back slammed into the door. Tears burned hot trails down my cheeks. I tried to stand, but my legs refused, trembling and weak. When I looked down, I was still gripping the bat, the same one I’d smashed into my stepfather’s skull. “I didn’t mean to,” I muttered, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to do it.” I kept repeating it, staring at the bodies. “It wasn’t my fault.” The words tore out of me. “I was only trying to protect myself. He would have killed me. He tried to kill me.” The more I spoke, the harder the tears fell, blurring everything into red and shadow. My eyes flew open,