Chapter 3

James' POV

James woke up to the sound of his alarm clock. Instead of just shutting the alarm off, he knocked the clock down to the floor, where it broke. James grumbled as he got up, realizing that he would have to buy a new alarm clock for the third time this week. Then he smiled as he remembered the night before. He wished he could meet up with Danica again. But Gustavo had planned a recording session today. James didn't dare tell Gustavo that he wanted to reschedule the recording session for another day just so he could find Danica. Then James remembered that Danica was probably in school today. It was Monday, almost Christmas break. If James was right, and he usually was, Christmas break started in one week.

Carlos barged into James' room and said loudly,"If you're done primping yourself, we have to leave for the recording session! Gustavo will kill us if we're late, you know." James replied,"No, I don't know. If Gustavo kills us, he'd be out of a job. Aren't we his only music group?"

Carlos reconsidered and said,"True, good point. But he might send Freight Train to get us if we don't show up." James hurriedly finished his morning ritual and they left for the recording session. Freight Train was freaking SCARY!

Danica's POV

My alarm clock started bleeping loudly at six o'clock in the morning. Monday. The dreaded word crossed my mind and I groaned. But I rolled out of bed and gasped in pain. Clutching my ribs, I made my way over to my alarm clock and shut it off. My knee protested as I stumbled down the stairs to fix my breakfast.

I limped into the kitchen and halted in mid-step. My father was sitting at the table, drinking another beer.

He had looked up as I entered the kitchen. An evil grin spread across his face. "So you're still alive, huh?

Too bad. That means I can have some more fun with you. STAY WHERE YOU ARE, WITCH!" he shouted as I took a step backwards. He jumped up from his chair and lurched toward me. Too afraid to stay still any longer, I whirled around and was stopped when my dad grabbed the coller of my green turtleneck shirt. He yanked me back and slammed me into the counter. I gasped in pain and turned around, just in time to receive a fist to the cheek. I fell to my knees. He did a repeat of last night, except he used his fists, feet, knees and elbows. The phone rang before he was finished.

"Stay here, brat," he growled and answered the phone. I ignored him and raced out the door still in my pajamas.

I ran, limping and crying out in pain, all the way to Zoe's house. I pounded on the door, shouting for someone to open it. My dad ran up the driveway just as the door was flung open. Without asking, I ran into the house and slammed the door in my fathers face.

Panting, I slid down to the floor, and Zoe started yelling in concern. "What happened to you? Why was your dad chasing you? Are you okay?" I just moaned in pain. My limits had been reached, in more ways than one. Zoe yelled for her dad to come see me. The last thing I was aware of was Zoe's father carrying me to the car. Then everything was silent and dark.