Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

I cried quietly, their voices dulled now, but I could still
pick up pieces.
“Oh, GGod,” my father groaned. “Yeah.”
I shrunk.
“GGet off of me,” my mom demanded. “No!”
“Uh, come on.” My dad’s voice sounded labored. “I’ve
still got her all over my dick. Your cunt will smell like hers.
Sweet, like honey.”
I brought my hand up to cover the sobs escaping, and
that’s when he brought me into his chest, still holding his hand
over one ear, but pressing the other into his heart.
I breathed through my hand, and even though I wanted out
of here, and I didn’t give a damn if they knew I’d heard them,
I was afraid of the consequences. Since my father hadn’t
actually wanted to bring me home from Montreal, he wouldn’t
need a good excuse to send me back.
So I stayed in here, the boy’s heartbeat drumming in my
ear, and after a few moments, everything had calmed. My tears
stopped, my breathing got slower and more steady, and I
couldn’t hear my parents anymore.
Just his heart, pumping heavy and fast and in a constant,
perfect pace like a metronome, unchanging.
At some point I dropped my hand from my mouth, my
arms hanging limply at my sides, but he never let me go. And
the beating in his chest lulled me until my eyes grew too heavy
to keep open anymore.
Exhaustion took over, and before I knew it, I was lost in it.
In his warmth. In his arms. In the thunder of his heartbeat.
The next morning, I woke up, slowly blinking my eyes awake
and my body feeling like it weighed a ton.