Jack Dylan Grazer Abuse Novels & Stories

“And she knew that, so she used it to her advantage. At some point, I stopped trying to fight it. I will just sit and wait for her in the dark. If I didn’t struggle, it would end faster. Maybe that’s when she broke me. It became constant. From once a month to once a week and almost every night. It was awful, Gracie.” “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. He cups my face and swipes his hand under my eyes. “Don’t be sorry, it’s over now. It won’t happen again. She will never touch me again,” he says with so much hate and vengeance that I shiver. Tears roll down my cheeks. “Don’t cry. It’s not your fault.” “I know. I wish I could help.” “You helped,” he replies with a kiss to my nose, another to my lips.

The policeman in charge of the case told Grayson, "027 is the one who suffered the most injuries out of all the kids. She had obvious trauma and was unwilling to talk to us after getting saved, and she didn't talk to the doctors or nurses either. She curled up in the corner of her room whenever she was awake. Her injuries didn't only affect her physically, but mentally as well."

Sliding his hands off my face before he took a few steps back away from me. “I only tolerated you because l pitied you. But then l realized that I can get better, l deserve better Leigh!Better than a paranoid girlfriend who won’t let me touch her, fears the dark like a pathetic little child and spends her time crying over her stupid dead mother. Go get a fucking therapist to help you with your trauma, for fucks sake god knows I’m not one.” Dylan spat in my face. Suddenly l felt extremely weak. My legs gave out and l collapsed to the floor on my knees as l began to sob uncontrollably.

"Then why are we still standing here?" All three of them looked at me. "What?" I asked. Damon blinked. "Excuse me?" "You heard me." "Betty. Are you sure?" "No." I folded my arms. "Travis has been causing problems for a long time. He worked with Lana. He stole from the club. He helped attack this pack. He helped people come after me. Every time something goes wrong, his name shows up somewhere. I can't believe I used to like that bastard."

How could he comfort a man who had never allowed himself to be comforted? So he did the only thing he could: he stayed. He sat beside Grayson, listened to his uneven breaths, watched the ice melt untouched in his glass and the bottles of alcohol he quickly emptied. Hours passed. The alcohol hit Grayson hard. His eyes glazed over, movements slow and uncoordinated. His pain was spilling everywhere—raw, unfiltered. “Dylan,” he murmured again, head dropping forward. “I lost her.” Dylan swallowed, unable to find the right words to say. He knew it would eventually come to this day. He had warned him beforehand, but he didn't listen. Said he's in control of everything. Now look at what it had gotte

“Answer me, Isla.” She stared at the light above them. Then returned her attention back to him. “Yes. Even if he was still a child,” she answered, with reluctance. “Dianne tried to defend her son, but her mate was too strong. As a result, both of them were beaten. Almost every week.” “Fuck it.” Zachary’s fangs elongated. He was aching to dry the bastard's blood. He will kill that bastard for physically abusing Calvin and Dianne.

"Mr. Mueller's relationship is now public knowledge. His only girlfriend is Ms. Natalie Shaw. Ms. Linda Gray experienced trauma during her school years and has suffered from unstable judgment ever since. Her statements are false." Then there was a video. A girl was standing in an office, and the hand of an old man was on her waist. My mind buzzed. Back in high school, I was the infamous underprivileged student. One of the teachers knew I had no one to turn to even if he did anything, so he molested me in the office. I said nothing back then, as no one would back me up. That incident left me traumatized until college, and I tried to take my own life multiple times. Jonathan was the one who sa

"All I see is you finding excuses to explain your inability to take accountability for your actions. Even when you know that what you do can hurt someone." I sighed, my shoulders sagging. "I just hope you'll stop finding excuses to defend yourself. Because, honestly, I don't know if you're worth all the love and attention Kelly is giving you." As I unleashed my tirade of accusations, Dylan's expression transformed, his eyes clouding over with a mixture of pain and vulnerability. For a moment, he seemed to shrink away, his broad shoulders sagging under the weight of his secrets. But then, in a low, husky tone, he began to reveal the darkest corners of his past. "I was repeatedly abused and lo

Channel 7's breaking news banner flashes across his screen: "BREAKING: Billionaire Brett Graham Accused of Sex Trafficking, Abuse of Homeless Mother" Below the headline is a photo of me from eight months ago - dirty, desperate, holding Lily in that parking lot where this all began. The elevator doors close just as Brett collapses against the wall, finally broken. "Riley," he whispers, "I'm so sorry." But I'm not listening to his apology. I'm staring at something in the news photo that doesn't belong there - something that proves Jamson made a critical mistake.

Jack made up and went to his room. "Call me if you need to." Jack said while leaving. - "Ummmmmmmm ..." Grasis was standing by the closet in the room, tying the bandage around the wound under his chest. For two days she had been tying the same blood-stained bandage over and over again, and today he was bandaging himself. He was bandaging his belly very tightly around his waist. He had probably already worn such a tight bandage on his leg because there he was adorning the paint he had taken out of the closet. Ayla quickly got up from the bed and came to him. It was morning of the third day. Grasis had slept for more than two days because he had been suffering from a high fever for two days du