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“What do you want?” “Nothing.” He held his hand out to me. “Stop. Please. I’m really not here to hurt you or scare you.” “I beg to differ. I’m scared shitless right now.”
He was rambling. I had rejected him, and I was beginning to feel sympathy for this Broudou brother. Hell had frozen over. The world had shifted on its axis.
My head jerked back. “You just bitch-slapped me.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a crooked grin and she shrugged. “Well, that’s what real friends do.”
No sound. No tears. No cries. They couldn’t hear anything from me. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
They hit my jaw. They hit my eyes. They pulled my hair out. They ripped my shirt. They punched my stomach. And then the kicks started. To my side. Down on my ribs. On my head. To the side of my head. Then to my hips. They wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t keep going. My eyes were swollen shut by now. I lifted my hands, but only to ward off their attacks. I couldn’t fight anymore. The pain was too much and I couldn’t get through them. The door was less than five feet away, but it could’ve been five miles now.
He went to Heather’s side. It was then when our gazes collided. Her eyes burned bright with condemnation. Channing hadn’t judged me, but she was. Sam’s best friend hated me. Kate gasped, swaying on her feet, “Mason! You’re here!” I hated myself, too.
It was then that I saw them. Everything stopped. My heart froze.
My lungs shrunk. Everything shattered.
“I told her—” “She saw you, Mason! You’re ready to beat me up because I was comforting her. You were making out with another girl. Put two and two together.”
“What are you looking for?” “Alcohol.” “You don’t drink that much.” A harsh laugh ripped from me. “I do tonight. I’m going to keep drinking a whole shitload tonight.”
They slid into his hair again and he tugged once more on his strands. “This blows.” Literally. I snorted at the joke, but stopped. Neither of them were amused.
“You tell me where they are, or I’m going to give a character reference to your new girlfriend.” I bared my teeth at him. “And it won’t be a good one, if you know what I mean.” “They went downstairs. That door right there.” He pointed
“Hard to hurt someone who doesn’t give a flying fuck about you anymore.”
