I gingerly move forward and ease into his arms. Noah's careful to hold me lightly by my shoulders versus the waist and I rest my bruised cheek against his bare shoulder. He feels so warm and comforting. I feel his hand run though my tangled hair before he presses a kiss near my forehead. I reluctantly pull back and peer at him. “Can you go put a shirt on?”
His eyebrows rise. “Where did that come from?”
“Marley's coming.”
“I'm aware of that.” Then comprehension dawns on his face. “You don't want me shirtless around her?”
Dang. I had no right to ask that and I look away.
“I'll be right back,” Noah says lightly before he rises to his feet and disappears out of my bedroom. I hear him rummaging around his and a second later the doorbell rings. I wonder if he saw the light and a brief moment later I know he has because I hear him heading downstairs.
When he comes back, I hear a feminine voice in the hall and know it's Marley. She enters my room with Noah right behind her and her brown eyes widen. “Good Lord!” she says, hurrying over to me, her eyes scanning my battered face.
I sigh and wince slightly. “It's just as bad as Noah says, huh?”
Marley gives me a sympathetic look. “It's pretty bad. How did this happen?”
“My ex.”
“He's going to be a dead ex if Tate has anything to do about it,” she says as she peers closer at my jaw. “How's the jaw? Feel anything different when you open it?”
Marley proceeds to examine me before she announces what I knew all along. No broken ribs, but possibly a hair-line fracture that only an x-ray would catch. I refuse to go the hospital because there's nothing that can be done for a hair-line fracture anyway. It'll have to heal on its own. She tells me I can take the left over medication I'd taken for my arm once my Ibuprofen wears off. I have at least another four to five hours to go before I can take the stuff that would eliminate all my pain and likely cause me to sleep for hours.
I am looking forward to it.
While Marley finishes up her instructions, the doorbell rings again and I glance at Noah and let him know Vince is here. Once my brother's best friend arrives, I feel my anxiety lessoning. He is calm and reassures me he won't let Tate do anything to Cole once I explain the situation.
Since we have no idea when Tate's coming back, Vince suggests I try to get some sleep. Noah refuses to leave me alone and insists on sitting near my bed while I try to rest through the pain. Marley had originally planned on staying but Vince talked her into heading out because things would likely get ugly and the less people here, the better.
I must have fallen asleep because next thing I know, someone is cursing violently. I sit straight up with confusion and then groan in agony before balling up into a fetal position as waves of pain spear through me. When it finally eases, I hear a thunderous silence and I slowly open my eyes and look up.
Tate is standing next to my bed and he's staring down at me with barely contained fury. A vein is bulging in his temple and his green eyes are livid. “He's dead. He's fucking dead,” he growls before he turns and strides out of my room.
Relief sweeps through me when I catch sight of Vince right on my brother's heels.
Noah moves into my line of vision and he has a bottle of water and one of the large pills I was familiar with from when I'd cut my arm. “It should be safe to take. All you've done is shift restlessly in your sleep and Tate barging in here didn't help.”
With a shaky hand, I take the pill and swallow it down. Then I sink back onto my pillow, my eyes drifting shut. “I'm sorry,” I mumble.
“Why?”
“I should have known better. I knew all along he was bad...”
Resolve
Resolution made to make the wrong
things right
The next morning, I opt to avoid the strong pain reliever and instead take Ibuprofen. Yesterday was a complete blur. I think I remember waking up at one point last night to see my brother sitting by my bed, his expression grim as he watched me sleep.
Thankfully, I am alone when I wake up. I manage to force myself to get out of bed and take a much needed shower where I find that my face is just as badly bruised as I expected it to be. It's pretty obvious someone worked me over pretty good but there's nothing I can do about it. Maybe tomorrow I'd be able to cover some of it with makeup, but today it's a lost cause.
With wet hair trailing down my back, I make my way downstairs with great trepidation. Noah's in the kitchen going through what looks like a pile of bills at the kitchen table. He looks up at me and his eyes scan me from head to toe. “How are you doing this morning?” he asks with unreadable eyes.
“I'm fine,” I say lightly as I move to the patio doors. It's cloudy out but I don't care. I just want somewhere to pull my thoughts together. As soon as I step outside, I can tell it's going to be a cool day and goose bumps rise on my arms and bare legs. I ignore them and walk over to a lounge chair. I gingerly lay down and try to relax since I'm not hungry.
I hear the glass doors slide open and a second later a warm blanket is covering me. I look up at Noah and he doesn't say anything, instead he touches my shoulder reassuringly before he turns and heads back inside—clearly sensing my need to be alone.
My eyes drift shut and my mind shifts to my brother. I remember Noah telling me last night when I'd been briefly conscious that Vince had talked Tate down from doing anything stupid and they'd keep an eye on him. I was grateful. I don't think I could handle it if Tate did something to jeopardize his career because of me.
I must have fallen asleep because when I slowly stir and my eyelids lift, I sense that I am no longer alone on the patio. My back is facing the house and because my body still aches as much as yesterday, I am careful as I slowly ease onto my back, the blanket still keeping me warm.
I find my brother sitting on the other lounge chair, his expression oddly impassive.
“Hey,” I greet hesitantly as a cool breeze stirs my now dry hair.
“How's the pain today?” he asks calmly as his eyes roam over my bruised face, his lips tightening slightly.
“Bearable.”
He nods and studies me for a long minute. “Why? He hit you early on while you were dating, why stay with him after that?”
He's so calm and that is unusual for my brother considering the situation. I'm wary and feeling cautious as I debate how to answer. One wrong answer on my part and my brother might just erupt.
“I don't know,” I say truthfully.
Tate stares out at the pool moodily. “You should have come to me.”
“He only hurt me twice before this, Tate. I just didn't think it'd get this bad.”
“You liked him that much that you stayed with someone who deliberately hurt you?” he asks as he looks at me again.
I can tell he doesn't understand and I don't blame him. I had my reasons for staying with Cole but it wasn't like I could tell him. “Yeah, I liked him,” I say.
“But it's over now?”
“Yes.”
“And you're going to press charges, right?” he asks, his green eyes intent now. Clearly he expects me to do as he says.
“No. I'm sorry, Tate, but I can't do that.”
“Why the hell not? He's eighteen, he deserves jail time for what he did to you. Dammit Blayre, you can't let him go free and not pay for this.”
“You mean you can't let him go free,” I correct quietly. “It's what you want, not what I want.”
“Of course it's what I want!” he yells before he grimaces and looks at me apologetically before continuing on in a calmer voice. “How can you not want it as well?”
“There's no point. We're done. Just let it go.”
“So he can do it to some other innocent girl?” he asks deliberately.
That has me wincing. “Please, don't. It's not up to you and I don't need you laying a guilt trip on me right now.”
“You're right. I'm just mad as hell that something like this happened u
nder my own damn roof. The fact that it happened to you makes it even harder to swallow.”
“I'm sorry.”
“None of this is your fault.”
I fall silent and stare out over the pool. It is my fault because I knew better.
“If you won't press charges, will you at least consider a restraining order?”
My eyes shift back to his. “Just let it be, Tate.”
“Let it be? Blayre, I am a cop. I see this shit all the time. Women get beaten senseless and refuse to press charges and then the bastard comes back and puts a bullet through her brain or beats her to death. This is the reality of abusers. They always come back for more,” he says flatly.
I flinch at his words and tighten my hold on the blanket wrapped around me. “Cole wouldn't do anything like that. Not every abuser turns to murder.”
“There's always the possibility.”
“Please stop,” I say, shaking my head. “I don't need you putting these thoughts in my head. I already have enough to deal with.”
“Blayre, I am scared to death you are going to become just another statistic. Let me protect you the best way I know.”
“I can't do this right now,” I mutter as I gather up the blanket and gingerly rise to my feet.
“Ah, hell. Just sit and I'll let it go for now. Please?”
I carefully sit back down and pull the blanket around me again.
“I dropped by the department this morning and put in a request to work the day shift whenever possible until I feel Cole isn't a problem anymore. Either Noah or I will be home every evening. I don't want you alone.”
“Tate—”
“It's non-negotiable, Blayre.”
“Fine,” I say with a sigh.
***
School is a total nightmare on Monday. I look like crap, feel like crap and everyone who walks past me gapes at the sight of my battered face. I tried to cover some of the bruising with makeup but there was only so much I could do to hide the discolored skin.
Everywhere I go, I suffer stares and hear the whispers. Since Cole and I are obviously not speaking, people are wondering if he had done this to me. No one has the nerve to ask and I am thankful for that. Somehow I manage to go about my day until I end up getting called to the counselor's office. I would have simply ignored the summons but it came in the middle of class and one of the office aides was there to walk me to the office.
Mrs. Delegrass, the school counselor, motions for me to sit down as her blue eyes take in my face. “I didn't expect to see you in my office so soon, Blayre.”
“Me, neither,” I say dryly as I look around at the pale green walls instead of paying attention to her. The usual posters are up on her walls about drugs, smoking and safe sex.
“It says on your file that your brother is a cop here in town. I take it he's aware of what has happened to you?”
Oh, great. My eyes shift to her and I give her a cool look. “I live with him, of course he's aware of it.”
“Would you care to fill me in?” she asks gently.
“No, I wouldn't. It's none of your business.”
“I just want to help you. If you're having problems at home or if you are having issues with your boyfriend, I am a safe person to confide in.”
I stare at her with shock. “You think my brother beat me up?”
Mrs. Delegrass hesitates. “No,” she says slowly, “that is not what I said.”
Yes, it is, but I am not going to get into this conversation with her. Instead, I rise to my feet and give her a dark look. “I've got problems that even a life time of counseling won't cure. And it's still none of your business,” I say flatly before I leave her office.
The rest of the day goes downhill from there and the icing on the proverbial cake is when I find Cole leaning lazily against my car after school.
Instead of hesitating, I walk right over as I dig out my car keys from my backpack. “What do you want?” I ask flatly.
Cole's green eyes take in the bruises all over my face and I swear I catch a hint of regret in his expression. “You cheated on me,” he says quietly.
“And you punished me for it. Get over it.”
“Don't be a bitch, Blayre. We both know you liked it,” he says pointedly, obviously referring to the fact that sometimes I enjoyed pain.
I step closer to him, my face inches from his as I get up in his personal space. “Don't you dare bring that into this.”
“You can't seriously be the one who’s pissed. You're the one who cheated on me. Now we're even.”
“You're fucked up, Cole.”
“That's the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?” he asks as he leans in closer, our lips now inches apart.
I give him a steady stare and refuse to back off. “We're over.”
Cole's eyes narrow dangerously. “We're not over until I say we're over.”
“I'm not playing hard to get. I'm playing leave me the fuck alone.”
He moves closer and his head turns so his lips brush my cheek as he says, “We're tied in ways that will never be severed, Blayre.”
I pull back and meet his gaze. “And if one of us goes down, the other goes down with them. I get it. I'm not going to say anything, Cole.”
He studies me for another long second before he straightens up and walks away.
***
When I get home, I find that Noah is already there. He'd either left class early to be home when I arrived or class had let out earlier than usual.
“Did you see Cole?” he asks bluntly as I drop my backpack on the floor near the kitchen table before easing my aching body into a chair.
“I don't want to talk about it.”
Noah studies me for a minute and then he leaves the kitchen.
I feel like a bit of a bitch, but after the day I'd had, I think I'm allowed to be a little pissy. Feeling wary and annoyed, I reluctantly pull my books from my backpack and scatter my stuff across the table as usual. My life is a total mess and I need to try to pull it together. The first step in that process is making sure I graduate high school.
Noah comes back and he sets a bottle of Ibuprofen near my arm before heading for the refrigerator. I pick up the bottle and when he comes back to me with a bottle of water, I give him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
“You look upset. Obviously you have a lot to be upset about, but I'm here if you want to talk,” he says as he watches me swallow the pills.
I set the water bottle down and motion to the empty chair across the table. “Sit if you want. You don't have to listen to me and all my problems, though. You've done enough of that lately.”
He pulls out the chair and his brown eyes are warm. “I always want to know what's on your mind. Even if it's bad and pertains to me,” he teases dryly.
I can't help but chuckle. “I could never think anything bad of you.”
“Good to know.”
“The counselor called me into the office today. She pretty much hinted that either Tate beat me up or it was Cole,” I say bluntly.
Noah's eyebrows rise. “And what did you say?”
“I told her it was none of her business,” I say as I reach for one of my school books.
“I bet that went over real well.”
I glance at him and smile. “Yeah, but I wouldn't know, I walked out on her.”
“Not surprising. Do you want some help? You look like you have a lot to do.”
“Are you offering to do my homework for me?” I ask hopefully while my eyes are teasing.
He shoots me a look. “If I did that, you wouldn't learn anything. I asked if you want 'help,' not answers.”
“I could use the help if you don't mind,” I say soberly. “My grades are really bad right now and there's a chance I might not graduate if I can't get them back up.”
He nods. “Then we have work to do. What are we doing first?”
Noah slides his chair closer to mine and we spend almost two hours working on my homework. Before this weekend had
gone down, Mrs. Delegrass had gone to most of my teachers and inquired after extra credit assignments for me so I could work on bringing my grades up. The teachers had been willing to allow it, so I had my hands full with extra assignments along with my regular school work I needed to keep up on.
Eventually, we take a break and Noah puts together some cold cut sandwiches and we eat at the island counter. He sits next to me and we eat in silence until I rise to my feet and put my plate in the dishwasher.
I turn back to find that Noah is watching me from where he sits. “What?”
“How is the pain today?”
I sigh and pain tugs at my ribs but I'm used to it by now. “I'll survive.”
He rises to his feet and picks up his plate. “I was thinking you need a break from your homework,” he says before he walks to the already open dishwasher and slips his plate in an open slot.
Once he's looking back at me, I look at him curiously. “What do you suggest?”
“Ever play video games?”
“Video games,” I repeat slowly. “No, can't say I have.”
He grins playfully. “Let me show you what you've been missing,” he says as he slips an arm around me and leads me to the living room. I'm curious and Noah's light mood is rubbing off on me. I sit down on the couch and watch as Noah readies a game and then brings back a couple gaming controllers before sitting down next to me. “What do you think of zombies?” he asks as he watches my mouth to read my lips.
“Zombies?” I ask with a laugh. “I don't know, I've never met one.”
“You ever watch The Walking Dead?”
“The what?”
He shakes his head at me, amusement flashing in his brown gaze. “You have a lot of catching up to do. Maybe this weekend we can watch re-runs on Netflix if you're in the mood.”
I like that he's so willing to spend time with me and already planning on being around this weekend. “Okay, I'd like that,” I say lightly.
“Back to business. We're going to kill zombies tonight and that's all that you need to be thinking about. Shut your mind off to everything else,” he orders as he hands me a controller and proceeds to explain what each button does.
Unraveled (Twisted Series) Page 10
