"Come here, you little son of a b¡tch. I wasn't done talking to you yet." Warren shouted chasing me through the house. "I'm going to f*cking kill you if you don't stop running away." I was done, the abuse, the neglect; I was ready to just jump out the window. I was too smart to do that; I had a plan. I rushed to pack my bags, avoiding Warren as much as I could. "Damn it, Rowan, Why are you doing this to me?" I was slipping on my sneakers when Warren found me by the door. "What in the hell!?" was the last thing I heard him say because I stomped my shoes on and ran out the door, down the hall and, into the elevator of our apartment building.Â
"I made it!" I huffed as I pounded the button for the lobby. I was just about to lean against the wall when a shiver ran down my spine.
"What are you running from, little cub?"