I Saved him too

I Saved him too BEAUTIFUL BROKEN PIECES SERIES I.S.A. BELLA Contents Before you read Prologue The Day Of Flashback Chapter 1-Sadie Chapter 2-Donovan Chapter 3-Sebastian Chapter 4- Flashback Chapter 5- Donovan Chapter 6- Sadie Chapter 7- Sadie Chapter 8- Sadie Chapter 9- Sadie Chapter 10- Sadie Chapter 11- Sadie Chapter 12- Flashback Chapter 13- Donovan Chapter 14- Sadie Chapter 15- Memory Chapter 16 -Donovan Chapter 17- Flashback Chapter 18 -Donovan Chapter 19-Sadie Sisterhood Chapter 20- Donovan Chapter 21- Sadie Chapter 22- Donovan Chapter 23- Flashback Donovan Chapter 24- Sadie Chapter 25 -Donovan Chapter 26- Sadie Dancing in the rain Chapter 27- Sadie Chapter 28- Donovan Chapter 29 -Sadie Chapter 30- Sadie Chapter 31- Sadie Acknowledgments Playlist Also by i.s.a. bella Keep in touch Resources Published by i.s.a. bella I Saved Him Too Copyright © 2023 i.s.a. bella Kindle Edition First Edition: 2023 Editing: Jennia Herold D’Lima Proofreader: Cassie Weaver Cover Image: Robin Harper with Wicked by Designs Blurb: The Blurb Bitch All rights reserved. No part of this book may not be reproduced or used in any matter without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, actual event, or locales is purely coincidental. Created with Vellum Before you read I Saved him too is the third book in the Broken Beautiful Pieces Series. There is one more book in this series, including two Novellas. While reading the continuation of Donovan and Sadie’s story, be aware this story contains content that might be troubling to some readers. Difficult topics are discussed in this story including mental health, mature content, adult language, and disturbing matters that may trigger an emotional response. We’re stronger in the places that we’ve been broken. ~Ernest Hemmingway Prologue JOSIAH For as long as I can remember, my head has been full of negative thoughts and voices that are loud enough to silence the good that tries to crawl its way in. One of them is my father’s. I can hear his voice from beyond the grave. “You’re worthless.” “I wish you and your sister were never born.” “Boys don’t cry. Stop crying you little shit.” The first time my father hit me, I was ten years old. I was playing with my Hot Wheels when a loud bang came outside my bedroom. Dad’s booming voice followed, and it rattled the little plastic soldiers sitting on my windowsill. Then I heard it. My five-year-old sister was screaming, but the more she cried, the louder she screamed. I jumped and yanked the door open so hard it smacked against the wall. I followed my sister’s cries and found Dad kicking her, standing over her, and calling her names a child should never hear. He grabbed her by the hair, lifting her off the floor. Sadie dangled in mid-air, and Dad cocked his hand back, ready to slap her. Mom came running in and tried to rip her out of his grasp, but he hit Mom with his elbow. Mom went down with a cry. Sadie was still crying, her face blotchy, and I noticed a small puddle underneath her feet. She had an accident. “Leave her alone!” I screamed, running toward Dad. He slapped me with his free hand, and my face smacked against the floor. Sadie cried louder. It felt like he broke my neck. Mom scrambled to get up and begged Dad to let Sadie go, but he held her even tighter. I cringed at the sound of her cries. I ran back to my room and grabbed my baseball bat that I kept underneath the bed. I ran back out, and right when Dad moved to slap Sadie, I swung the bat against his arm. He cried out and dropped Sadie to the ground. “You little—” Dad attempted to lunge for me, but I hit him on the head, knocking him out. I grabbed Sadie’s hand, and we ran to her bedroom. “Stay here, okay? I’m going to get Mom.” “No, do-don’t go-o pl-please,” Sadie hiccupped through her cries. “Lock the door and don’t open it unless it’s me or Mom. I’ll be back,” I reassured her. She nodded and wiped her face. I left her room and waited until I heard the lock click. Ever since that day, Dad never stopped abusing us. Sadie got the brunt of it, but I tried my best to prevent it from happening, especially when I turned fifteen. I developed more muscle around then and became stronger than Dad. After that, he wasn’t at home much, and the beatings lessened. A soft and gentle voice interrupts my thoughts. “Baby, are you ok?” I glance to the side at my girlfriend, Elisa. I think about how lucky I am to have her, and how much I love her. I met Elisa during my senior year of high school. The first time I saw her was sitting outside on the bench during lunch. It was early September, and the weather was in the low sixties. She wore a tight white V-neck; you could see her black bra through her shirt. Her hair was long and wavy, and she wore bright red lipstick. Fuck me. She was hot. Once I had the guts to talk to her, she became my girl the same day. Elisa knew what was going on at home the first time she’d seen my bruises, but she cried harder when she saw Sade’s state. Elisa was the light to my darkness. I was her dark prince, and she was my saving angel. Whenever she was around, the voice in my head was silenced. The first time she experienced one of my bipolar episodes was after I found Sade half-conscious one night after work. Dad beat her so badly that I thought she was dead. The next day, I stopped taking my