Jack Dylan Grazer Abuse Novels & Stories

"I invite you to leave or go to your room if you don't want to witness any more scenes, Dylan." I pinched Grayson's waist. "Don't listen to him. He's just bragging," I corrected. Dylan rubbed his arms. "I'm getting goosebumps." But then he really left us. Meanwhile, I immediately opened Grayson's shirt because when I pinched him earlier, his reaction looked like he was in a lot of pain. And when his shirt opened, I opened my mouth wide. On Grayson's back and waist were small bruises, like... pinch marks?

“You want my story? Fine. I’ll give it to you.” I turned in his arms, looking up at him. “My real name’s Jackson Rivera. I grew up in foster care after my mom OD’d when I was nine. Bounced around until I was sixteen, then I ran. Lived on the streets, danced in underground clubs to eat. Learned fast that sex sells, but it also gets you hurt. Had a boyfriend once,Dylan. Sweet kid. We were gonna get out together. Marcus offered him a ‘private gig.’ Dylan never came back. Overdose. Official story. But I know better. Marcus sold him to some rich fuck who liked it rough. Too rough.”

I close my eyes for a few seconds, bracing for the impact the words that are about to come out from Grace’s mouth will have. “Big mistake brother,” I whisper as he smiles and Grace shakes her head, taking a breath before she rips him one. “You really think I am worried about photos and videos? I am worried about you, it’s not the first time you appear in front of me covered in bruises and cuts, whatever is going on with you, you know you can talk to us, and we won’t judge, we can help you work through it,” Grace says and I close my eyes. Jagger is being hit in every direction with her words, and I honestly don’t know how he is going to react.

"It won't be long Mrs Tryst, the doctor said she had a concussion and other injuries that needs to heal. "Annabell is doing great!" A smooth, male voice interrupts. My mum is here! My dear mother, by my side while I heal and recover. That's when the previous events hit me! Jason! Jason Gray! I remember the way he hurt me. The way he abused me. Before I have a chance to grasp it, or reign it in, I sit upright, my eyes pop open and I scream.. A blood curdling, pain filled, heartbroken scream. "Annabell!"

"It won't be long Mrs Tryst, the doctor said she had a concussion and other injuries that needs to heal. "Annabell is doing great!" A smooth, male voice interrupts. My mum is here! My dear mother, by my side while I heal and recover. That's when the previous events hit me! Jason! Jason Gray! I remember the way he hurt me. The way he abused me. Before I have a chance to grasp it, or reign it in, I sit upright, my eyes pop open and I scream.. A blood curdling, pain filled, heartbroken scream. "Annabell!"

Jasper’s abuse was escalating slowly, and carefully, he's always stopping just short of anything that would leave permanent marks Dax could sense through the pup’s bond. But the slaps were harder and the starvation periods longer. The threats more creative and last night’s “punishment” of forcing me to watch while he fucked Vivienne and moaned my name had left me raw in a way no bruise ever could. I couldn’t keep living like this. The pup deserved better and I deserved better.

Cracker’s POV I was growing entirely too anxious when Prez and Grace ran late. I’d already been at the club with Steel when Cobalt called out and gestured the news. Grace’s face was plastered all over it, claiming that she’d murdered someone. Rage boiled in my blood, and I swear that if my leg hadn’t been broken, I’d marched right up to Sheriff Jones and killed him myself. However, Steel and the others – after they’d all apologized for their behavior, and I let them stew in their own sweat for a minute or two – reassured me, that with the video of Jones at our house and the evidence I’d gathered, Jones wasn’t going to be able to do anything.

Maddox was dead, he was really dead, the years of abuse was finally over and I drop to my knees sobbing, it was over, it was really over. The man standing next to me tries to pull me up but I was sobbing uncontrollably. Daryl’s large black wolf pads towards me and he nuzzles his head against mine, reaching my arms around his neck, I hug him tightly, his black fur tickling my face. After a few moments he pulls out of my hug as I stay knelt on the ground, he shifts back and one of the men throw a pair of joggers at him. I barely got a chance to see him as the tears were still clouding my vision.

Dylan adjusted his cuff and finally spoke. “The first slap,” he said evenly, “was for putting your hands on a girl. I did not raise you to abuse anyone—least of all someone who came into this house as a guest.” No one moved. Tara’s lips parted, outrage strangled in her throat. Jake swallowed, trembling. Mr. Dylan continued. “The second slap was for lying to my face about it. I do not tolerate liars in my home.” A ripple went through the room—shock, disbelief, delicious fear. Mr. Dylan stepped back from Jake like he couldn’t stand the sight of him. Then he turned, facing the stunned family.

Raven finished cleaning the mess and took the tray up front. “That was nice what you did for Fionia, those punks have been harassing her the last two weeks, every night she works,” the guy behind the grill mentioned. “Why haven’t you got a restraining order against them or banned them from here?” Raven was pissed that he didn’t do anything to help his employ if they’ve been doing this. “It doesn’t do any good. One of the kid’s dad works at the precinct.” “What’s his name?” “Not your problem, miss.”