Tonight had been bad. I stared at the door and tried not to whimper as the weight of the evening crashed down on me.

"What is this?" His tone was bitter as he stared at the plate in front of him. I had made him steak and potatoes, just like he asked. The hard thump pounded in my ears as I ran through the options of what could be wrong with it.

Using his knife, Jack sliced at the meat and pointed at the center of it with his fork. The juices dripped red from the center, and the edge was crisp. I didn't understand; it looked perfect to me, and I tried to contain the rumbling in my stomach.

"Too rare," he muttered, but he was still talking to me. Raising his voice, he directed his hard eyes at me, "do you think I'm a wild
animal?"

Should've cooked it longer, should've cooked it longer! I told myself, fighting the tremors that threatened to show. I shook my head and dropped my eyes to the floor. The tremors won, and my hands started shaking; I knew what was coming next.

I barely even heard him get up, my mind already blocking out the pain before he even delivered the first blow. Still, I gasped when he grabbed a fistful of my ponytail and dragged me to the living area. A swift punch to the ribs and I was sprawled...