Novel & Cerita Strike Back Back On

“If you can disrespect ladies, you don’t even know then I’m sure you would be even worse to the ones that you do know. Next time, you come down this street stay away from my house our I’ll make sure to sock you again.” The boy she hit in the face covered his mouth. Demi burst his lip with one punch. He was embarrassed and upset that she did that. He started to raise his hand to hit her back. Demi wasn’t afraid of him. She stood there daring him to hit her. The taller boy had been watching her with interest. When his friend tried to race his hand to hit her, he grabbed his arm, speaking in an almost quiet voice. “You shouldn’t hit girls.” His friend still had his mouth covered as he tried to

“Miss Ca back in the evenings, she's always tired so she won't be able to play with you.” “Why do you make her work really hard?” “Baby, daddy works hard too. Most adults work very hard.” “Ok. Good night daddy.” “Good night pumpkin.” I pick up my laptop and head to my room. I don’t know if I can keep up with this revafter how broken Cara was. You were broken too. She needs to have a taste of her own medicine. When you get your revenge would that make you happy? Does it mend your broken heart Or heal your hurt?

back. *****

I used that as an opportunity to strike but he front kicked me , sending me back to the ground " YOU FUCKING BITCH"giving me a hot slap . He did know how to slap because my cheek hurt alot

Another strike. Closer. Stronger. It’s learning too. Adjusting. Mirroring me. That’s bad. Really bad. Because if it adapts faster— I lose. And if I lose— I don’t just die. I become that. “No!” I push harder. Faster. Breaking rhythm. Breaking pattern. Unpredictable. And for the first time— it hesitates. Just a second. Just enough. I strike. Precise. Targeted. It stumbles back.

Punches landed all over my back. The hard hits landed so violently that I suddenly heard a clear crack in my back. Right then, I heard an angry voice that made everyone go still. “Stop!”

⸻ More focused. “Stop thinking.” ⸻ “I’m not—” ⸻ “Then prove it.” ⸻ Her frustration snapped. ⸻ She lunged again— But this time— ⸻ She didn’t hold back. ⸻ The power surged instantly. ⸻ Stronger than before. ⸻ Her strike hit harder. ⸻ Faster. ⸻ Lucian blocked— But the impact pushed him back a step. ⸻ A step.

“Yeah, Tate, I did do that on occasion before you turned into a dumba*s who chose to believe the words of a boy you hated rather than to trust your loving girlfriend of four years. So you can rest assured that I won’t ever do it again.” I grabbed the bat out of his hand and shoved him backwards with all my might. I pressed the button on the machine and stepped into the batter’s box. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! I swung at every ball and kept making contact, sending them flying farther with each hit. I pictured Ashton’s face on the ball, taking my frustration out on it rather than facing assault charges.

*strike* i provide for you *strike* i feed you *strike* and this is how you repay me *strike* calling me a bas- *stike* -tard *strike* "please, stop" she mutters in a weak whisper "please" the leather of the belt stings her skin, making multiple cuts and bruises as Charles flings it with more and more force *strike* have I been too good to you? *strike* do I ask for too much? *strike* you've grown wings *strike* I've spoilt you *strike* spoiled bitch "Charles please stop" she cried, curling herself in a corner, in a failed attempt to block the belt from hitting her face.

He was lying to me and it racked my skin with irritation. “Strike two.” I held up two fingers, placing my blunt into my mouth with my free hand. “Do you know what strike three means?” Emiliano shook his head, and I held out my blunt, lowering it onto his hand. With force, I pressed it against the back of his palm, grounding it against his skin. Emiliano rasped, squeezing his eyes shut and vibrating in pain. “Strike three means I wouldn’t aim for the wood next time,” I said in a tone that cut like steel as my eyes locked on his with warning.