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CrissCrossed: A Dark High School Bully Romance Sasha Rc full chapter instant download
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CrissCrossed
Copyright © 2023 Sasha R.C.
All rights reserved.
First edition
Awakened Craving is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents are the product of the
author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events etc. are entirely a
work of fiction and completely coincidental. There are no real events or people in this book.
NOTICE:
SEE FULL AUTHOR NOTE and
TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING
BEFORE READING
THIS BOOK.
authorsashachristophersen.org
Author Note
Hello, my fellow readers,
This is A Dark High School Bully Taboo Romance. This book dives right in from the start, things
happen pretty quickly within these pages. There are things within this book that might be triggering
and uncomfortable for some readers. Please be AWARE there is sexual assault done by the main
female characters Uncle, bullying done by the main male characters, and mind games that happen
within this book. Some of the main characters are minors aged 17 years old. But there are flashback
memories starting when the main female character was 13 years old, this does include sexual assault.
And flashbacks when the main male characters are 10 and 12 years old.
Also please be AWARE that there is sexual grooming, and sexual assault that takes place by the uncle
of the Main female character. Sexual abuse includes: sexual pictures taken of MFC, fondling of
private parts, and forced hand job.
This is dark “why choose” romance; in other words, polygamy. There is no choosing. Please
remember that this book is a work of fiction and there are no true events that take place inside these
pages. Please read the trigger/ content warning.
Trigger/Content Warning
This is A Dark “Why Choose” High School Bully Romance. There are dark sexual elements and
themes in this book which include: sexual scenes that have bondage, breath play, anal, dominant
sexual behaviors, and submissive sexual behaviors.
Other dark elements and themes in this book include psychological abuse, mental abuse, sexual
assault, stalking, foul language, violence including murder, and tortured and possessive controlling
Main Male Characters. This is a bully romance; some language and situations between the main
characters may be uncomfortable for some readers. Two of the main characters are underage- 17
years old for the bulk of this book.
Also please be aware that there is sexual grooming, and sexual assault that takes place by the uncle of
the Main female character. Sexual abuse includes Sexual pictures taken of MFC, fondling of private
parts, and forced hand job.
This book is fiction. There are no real events or people inside this book. This book is all fantasy. I
want to make it clear that I do not condone anything that happens in this book. Please use caution.
You know yourself best. It is advised that this book is for mature adults over 18.
Nicole Meacham-
I know that you said Dark High School Bully Romance is one of your favorites.
This is for you. Thank you for being such a good person.
I appreciate you and all of your support.
Kaylea Fink-
This is the book that started our friendship,
Thank you for all of your support. For taking the time to read my books.
I appreciate you. I hope you enjoy my friend.
Bretnie Shepherd-
Thank you for all of your support, staying up with me at all hours of the night. Keeping me on track and being my friend. Thank you
for being you.
Contents
Author Note
Trigger/Content Warning
A Special Dedication
Contents
Playlist
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 66
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Other Books by Sasha R.C.
Acknowledgements
About the Author:
Playlist
Dad has been pacing back and forth, his screams have filled up the hallways. Raiden has been
making sure to keep me by him. I don’t know what is going on, but I can tell that something is wrong
with dad again.
Dad has been so angry. Mom says that it’s our family curse, whatever that means. It is our family’s
curse for the men to be violent and angry. Raiden tightens his hold on me as we both wiggle deeper
into the closet. Mom warned us. She said it was probably best for us to stay out of sight. So, Raiden
took me in here and we have just been listening. Mom told us both to be quiet, so that’s what we have
been doing.
I used to love this closet, but now it scares me. There are a lot of things that I used to love that
scare me now. We have been spending more time in this closet than we do outside or in our actual
rooms. Raiden says it’s because this closet is safer. Kids my age shouldn’t know any of this, but I’m
not stupid. I know that our family is different, that dad is different.
Everyone thinks that I’m just some little kid that doesn’t know, but I know. I hear and see
everything. Even the things they don’t want me to see or hear.
“Raiden what is going on?” I whisper to my brother, hating the silence.
“I don’t know Ryker, but we need to stay here, okay?” Raiden says. His voice is low as he tightens
his arms around me.
“What about mom?” I ask. My heart is starting to race thinking about her being out there instead of
in here with us. She used to come in here with us, but lately she has been telling us to hide in here by
ourselves. I don’t like her being out there. I don’t like not knowing what’s going on.
“She will be okay,” Raiden tries to tell me, but I don’t believe him. He doesn’t know that. And I
can tell he doesn’t even believe his own words. We are both scared, but my brother would never
admit it unless I push him too, and right now is not the time to do that.
He cries in his room at night when he thinks I can’t hear him. Raiden and I both are becoming more
and more quiet. The laughter and joking around has gone down this last year, and I have a feeling it
will continue to go down. It makes me sad.
“He’s yelling again,” I whisper. Raiden tightens his arm around me. Mom says we need to do
whatever dad says to make him happy, and we try, we really do try. But nothing seems to make him
happy lately. Nothing except for when he isn’t here with us.
We both hold our breath as we hear dad breaking things.
Mom is screaming.
I hear her scream “please don’t”.
We can’t just sit here.
I quickly wiggle out of Raiden’s tight grip and push open the closet door. I get up and take off
running.
“Ryker come back,” Raiden screams behind me.
But I can’t go back in there, I hate the dark, I hate feeling confined.
Mom needs us. She screamed. When she screams that means that she needs us.
I run out of Raiden’s bedroom and down the hallway toward father’s office… the place that the
yelling is always coming from.
I push open the doors and run inside, stopping when I see mom on the ground. She is covering her
head with her hands and father he is standing over her with a belt.
“No, dad stop,” I scream as I run over to mom and cover her head with my body. I look up at my
dad - his eyes are angry; his breathing is crazy.
I have only seen him like this a few times, and it has never ended good for the furniture or the
walls.
“Dad, you’re hurting mom,” I yell at him.
“Ryker move,” he snaps at me.
I shake my head as my heart starts to race. He lifts up his hand with the belt and I tighten my grip
on mom and lower my head. I might only be ten years old, but I’m not stupid. I’m not moving just so
that he can hurt her more.
“If you don’t move, son, I will hit you,” he warns me in that tone that I don’t like. It’s the tone that
is starting to scare me.
I shake my head and tighten my grip on mom.
“Dad, no,” Raiden screams. I can hear his footsteps coming closer and closer, and then his body
covers mine as I cover mom.
“Raiden, you know better than this shit. Move son, both of you,” Dad yells at Raiden.
“Dad stop,” Raiden says in a calm voice. I don’t know how he’s calm right now. I’m scared.
“Raiden! Fucking move,” Dad yells louder.
“No,” he screams back.
“You’re going to take the punishment for them?” Dad asks in a low voice, making chills go down
my spine.
“Yes,” Raiden says as he tightens his arms around me, and I tighten my arms around mom. She is
crying and her body is starting to shake, making me and Raiden both shake with her.
My heart continues to race as I keep my eyes closed. The next thing I hear is the belt hitting
Raiden. At first, he doesn’t make a sound, but that doesn’t last long. After three hits, the room, the
entire house, becomes filled with my brother’s screams.
Tears escape my eyes and roll down my face.
I don’t know how long it lasts. All I know is that dad held nothing back while he was punishing
Raiden. Raiden has always protected me, and he has always made sure that I was okay. But now it’s
my turn to make sure that he’s okay.
Dad drops the belt. I keep my eyes shut as he leaves the room. Raiden is sobbing, but he quickly
stops and heaves his body off mine. I open my eyes and look over at him as he slowly makes his way
out of dad’s office.
There is blood on his shirt.
My heart sinks as I keep a hold on mom. My brother is the strongest person that I know, and I owe
him everything. Even at ten years old, I know that my brother is my protector, my best friend.
We will never forget this day…the day our dad showed us who he really is. I will never forget it.
Chapter 2
Raiden
12 years old
I make my way into my room and every step I take sends pain shooting up through my back. I can’t
even tell which part of my back hurts worse. The pain is all-consuming. As I was making my way
down the hallway, I heard the front door open and close, and the sounds of my mother crying left with
her. Mom can never stay after a fight with dad. I don’t know why I thought that this time would be
different.
The first time I asked her why she left us alone with dad after a fight, she just simply said that she
needed air. I think it’s because she doesn’t want to see what dad has done to her, or the house. This
time, I know she left because she didn’t want to see what dad did to my back. But it wasn’t a choice
for me. I just reacted. It was either me or them, and I wasn’t going to let him hit Ryker or mom again. I
did what I had to do.
I would do it again if I had to. I might be young, and I might not understand everything that’s going
on, but one thing is for sure: I will take the beating if it means my mom and Ryker don’t have to suffer
at the hands of my dad.
My back strains as I reach to turn on the shower. I turn and grab tightly onto the counter. My back
stings and I know that the water is going to hurt so bad, I just know it. The blood from the belt wounds
is rolling down my back. It’s warm, but for some reason, a chill covers my skin. A twelve-year-old
shouldn’t feel like this. But I am not a normal twelve-year-old kid, and our family is not a normal
family.
I used to think our family was just like any other family, just like mine and Ryker’s friends. But I
learned really quick that we were different, it has never gotten to this point before. But now that my
dad has done this, I have a feeling it will not be the last time. Which scares me the most, it means I
can’t leave Ryker alone with dad. I would feel so bad if I left to go somewhere and came back and
found out my dad did something like this to my brother.
I might be young, but I know what I need to do. I need to protect Ryker and my mom. It means I
can’t go and play with my friends or waste time watching T.V. or playing video games. It means that I
need to be strong for them. And I can do that, I know I can do that.
My dad is violent and mean and will lash out when he feels that people are going against him. I
have no idea what mom did, or said, but whatever it was really set him off, and this is the end result
of his anger.
Dad has told me several times that everything he does is helping to prepare me for my future. I
have no idea what that means but I do know that I am terrified for me, my brother, and for mom. It
seems like all she does is cry or stay in a room that doesn’t belong to her and dad.
I close my eyes and allow the tears to roll down my face. My dad didn’t like that I screamed, but I
couldn’t help it. Now I know what will happen when I scream. I will know next time what not to do,
and I know there will be a next time.
“Raiden,” my little brother whispers behind me.
I open my eyes and look at Ryker in the mirror. He makes his way into my bathroom and stops at
my side. I wrap my arm around him and pull him against me.
“I’m sorry Raiden,” he says to me, making my heart sink into my stomach. He has nothing to be
sorry for. If he didn’t try to protect mom, I would have.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I whisper reassuringly, hearing the sadness in my own voice.
Why does it have to be like this? Why can’t we be like every other family?
“Dad hurt you,” Ryker says through his own tears.
“I’d rather it be me than you,” I say softly. I will always allow dad to hurt me instead of Ryker. I
will take this on for both of us.
“I love you Raiden,” he says resting his face against my chest and wrapping his arms around my
waist. He is gentle, but the touch of his arm against one of the cuts sends an intense throbbing up my
back.
“I love you too Ryker. Go get ready for bed, you can sleep with me,” I whisper, trying to hide that
my back hurts. He is only ten years old. He doesn’t need to worry about me. I will be okay.
“Okay,” Ryker says in a sad voice. He’s confused, I’m confused, all of this is confusing and scary,
and I have no idea what’s going to happen now.
I release my hold on him, and he leaves me alone. With the space and quiet, I can try to process
what just happened. Dad has gotten mad before, but he’s never hit me until today. He has never hit
Ryker either, and I’m pretty sure that he’s never laid his hands, or a belt, on mom.
Dad is not who I thought he was, and I’m scared. I’m scared for me, for Ryker and for mom. I will
protect them from him. That, I can do. If him hitting me means he doesn’t hit them, then I will take it
every time, because that’s what you do when you love someone.
Slowly, I remove my t-shirt. The blood sticks to my back and it hurts when the fabric pulls against
the cuts.
I look into the mirror and see Ryker staring at my back, making my heart race. I thought he left me
alone in the bathroom. He shouldn’t have seen this.
I protected Ryker from the beating, but I can’t protect him from his feelings right now. No matter
what I say, I know that this has changed my brother, just like it has changed me, and now we will go
through this together.
Always together.
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“shouldn’t we dominate the East? You mean to tell me you’d let a
bunch of Japs do it?” Cuthwright thumped the table. “And you said
the United States should boycott Italy if it invades Ethiopia. What in
hell is it our business if they go down and fight those niggers? And
where are we to sell our goods if you communists close up all the
foreign markets? I suppose you’d let England sell guns and stack
ours up in the Metropolitan Museum! Well, do you deny any of those
statements?”
“No.”
“All right, Jameson, we’ll have to ask for your resignation.”
Jameson was very pale now but his gaze was unwavering. “For
more than twenty years I’ve lived here and taught here.”
“I know, I know, Jameson. We’re sorry about it. But our duty—what
you don’t understand, Jameson, is that the welfare of the State is
greater than that of any individual. You didn’t use to be a
communist.”
“And I’m not one now.”
“Well, any man can hide behind a definition. Anyway....”
John Benton wondered afterwards why he did not speak up in
defense of his colleague. “I’m a coward,” he told his wife. He paced
the room, agitated. “I’m a coward!” he cried. “I can see it now!” And a
week later, when the local paper again called him a communist and
demanded in a long editorial that he resign from the board, he shook
all over. He felt the nameless dread of his youth. And when his fellow
trustees called him into conference behind a locked door, he
trembled with anxiety and turned to them a face as white as death.
They asked for his resignation. They asked if he had anything to say.
He looked at them and every one of them, it seemed to him, was a
man at ease, plump, secure, certain. He rose to his feet. “Yes,” he
said, his voice shaking, “I have something to say. It’s perhaps the
last thing I’ll ever say. Yes, I want to say that I fought in the last war. I
know a lot of men who fought in the last war. Where are they? Dead
—like Harlan and Roscoe and Ainsworth.” He licked his dry lips. He
placed hands on a table to steady his shaking frame. “But you didn’t
fight in that war. Did you?—did you?—or you? No, you’re
Goddamned right you didn’t! But I did. And I was not a coward,
either!” His voice was a little wild now. “I was decorated for bravery,
wasn’t I? Wasn’t I?” he demanded, with humorless tragic pride. “And
I came back and hated war and I spoke against war, and what did
you do to me? What did this town do to me? I’ll tell you: it made a
street bum out of me. You did! You’re liars if you say you didn’t. A
street bum—a drunkard—a fool, because I hated war and spoke
against war. And then,” he said, his face awful in its white anguish,
“then I favored war, I did, and—and you turned against me again. I
couldn’t please you,” he said, with dry choked bitterness. “Just like
Jameson couldn’t—nobody can, nobody! Nobody,” he said. “And
then—then I preached peace and you liked me and I had friends and
I liked to preach peace and I was happy. I had friends. Everyone was
my friend: you—and you. Everyone,” he said, proudly. “Everyone.
But now—now nobody speaks to me and they call me a communist,
and I’m not a communist, but nobody can please you. I can’t,
Jameson couldn’t, nobody could.” His voice fell almost to a whisper,
anguished and tragic and hopeless. “I fought in that war and I was
decorated for bravery and I’ve tried to make everyone like me. But
nobody can please men like you! You don’t want war and you don’t
want peace and—nobody!” he cried, wildly. His mind darkened and
there was something terrible in his eyes now. He advanced a little,
his body shaking. “I—you—” he said. The muscles in one cheek
twitched. “I fought in that war and I was decorated!” He leaned
forward, searching their faces with dark and unreasoning eyes,
searching for friendliness and goodwill. “Three nations decorated me
for bravery,” he said. He hesitated, groping, lost. Then he smiled and
his smile was more chilling than his words. “I—” He stopped, trying
to understand. “I’d fight again,” he said, softly, terribly. He laughed,
and the trustees rose and backed away from him. “I’d fight again,” he
said, softly, terribly, advancing toward them. “Honest!” he declared,
clenching his lean hands. The knuckles on his hands were as white
as his mouth. “I’d fight again,” he said.
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