“No. It’s not okay. Fuck. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I brush away her hand, and instead put my thumb over the open split. “I’m sorry.”
With care, I caress her cheek to assure her, but when she grimaces everything clicks into place.
I know why she applied makeup to her face.
Reigning in my anger, I collect myself to not spew the thoeries running in my head.
She is hurt. And there is only one person responsible for it.
“What happened to your cheek?” I ask, my voice dropping dangerously low.
Hope pales. “Nothing!”
I narrow my eyes. “He slapped you, didn’t he?”
“No!”
“He put his fucking hands on you.Again.”
“I’m fine.”
“Stop lying to me,” I hiss.
I break her walls with those words and she crumbles. Finally letting me see her and not hide the truth from me like she’s done in the past months.
Cupping her cheek, I add, “Talk to me, Rose. Tell me what he did.”
She stares at me for a long time, then whispers, “It happened last night.”
“Tell me exactly what happened,” I demand.
She nods, and opens her mouth but a group of girls walk past us.
When they see us standing together, they stop and stare with judgement swimming in their eyes.
I curse under my breath and grab her hand and take us to the rooftop where we sit against the wall next to each other. My hands itch to pull her into my arms and comfort her, but I’m packed with too much anger and frustration. All I want to do is get to her house and kill that man with my bare hands.
I hate him so much. I wish he’d disappear from her life. Dead, preferably.
“No one comes here so you can talk,” I assure her, eager to hear what happened that got her hurt.
Hope pulls up her knees to her chest, and tries to make herself small like a bird. I’ve noticed that she often does it. As if the world is too big and everything around her is coming right towards her, and all she wants to do is squeeze herself into the size of a peanut and protect herself.
When I see her like this, my instinct to protect her gets stronger.
No wonder I fell for her.
It was inevitable.
The way she affects me so strongly and ferociously, it needs to be studied.
She tells me everything that happened last night and why she asked Marie to pick her up. Apparently, she didn’t want to see me knowing I’d know right away—of course I will—and come after her dad and get in trouble—she isn’t wrong. She told Marie instead, who helped her cover up the bruises and promised to not tell neither Sebastian or me—I will have a talk with later.
When she finishes talking we sit in silence as the air around us sizzles with tension. It’s so thick that it suffocates me.
I’m breathless. No air enters my system and fuels it with oxygen. I’m empty inside.
I perform the five things technique to calm myself down and not jump up to my feet and find that man.
