But if it was Noah, he would have barged straight through the door without knocking. No, it’s definitely not him. Maybe Tully? Or Rivers? It’s got to be Tully. She wouldn’t be able to stay away from this trainwreck. Rivers will probably just send a text later in the day making sure I’m not plotting Noah’s death.
I throw the blanket off me and place my stupid little mirror down, knowing exactly what Tully is going to say now that the bruise has formed properly.
I slink across the living room and pull open the door. It’s barely halfway open when a figure blurs in front of me, pushes me back with a hard shove that sends me flying down onto my ass as someone yells out, “Get her!”
“What the fuck?” I yell as my ass begins to sting from the fall.
The door is slammed shut by another person and it’s not until then that I realize it’s Monica and Candice with a few of their skank cheerleader friends. Monica throws herself down on top of me as cheer skanks rummage through my home, tearing it apart. “Find that damn phone,” Monica seethes just seconds before her fist slams into the side of my face and someone grabs me, holding me down.
I buck her off, but Candice joins in as I try my best to cover my already aching face. It’s no use, there are too many of them and fists just keep flying. “You better stay the fuck away from him,” Monica yells between punches. “He’s mine.”
I get kicked. Cut. Clawed at. Bruised and battered.
“You’re nothing,” she seethes. “You’re pathetic. Noah is mine. He always will be,” Monica adds, jamming her fist into the side of my ribs. Her punches don’t pack nearly the same force that Noah’s elbow had this morning, but they are more than enough to have me begging for it to stop.
My arms cradle around my head and I curl my body up as much as possible. It makes it harder for them to punch, so they go with kicking instead. I scream out as someone’s foot connects with the back of my ribs. “Stop,” I cry.
“Look at that,” Candice laughs. “We made the bitch cry.”
“Got it,” someone calls out from deeper in the house.
Monica and Candice leave me be for all of three seconds as Monica grabs my phone off her friend. She searches through it. Laughs to herself and grins down at me like seeing the blood covering my face gets her off. “Consider this your final warning. Tell him what you think you know and I will end you.”
With that, she throws my phone down, smashing the screen before crushing it beneath her foot. Not a moment later, Monica and her band of whores run from my house, leaving the door wide open for the world to see me crumpled on the ground.
I groan as I roll onto my side, kind of wishing Noah would come around now. My body aches and every slight movement I make seems to make it worse. I know I’m supposed to be hating on him right now, but this just seems to put things into perspective. Why have I been working so hard to push away one of the only people who actually give a shit about me?
I crawl along the floor needing to get up or do something to help make the pain go away, but it’s too much. My nose is bleeding and my ribs are screaming with each flinch of my body. My arms instantly give in, unable to move me across the room.
I give up.
I stop dead center in the middle of the living room and wait. Maybe someone will come or maybe I’ll be left alone long enough for the pain to settle on its own, either way, I’m not moving anywhere. I can’t
Instead, I cry. I cry for my aching body. I cry for my messed up feelings for Noah. I cry for how broken he will be when he realizes it was all a lie and I cry for how shitty my week has been.
I don’t know how long I stay there, but it’s nearly dark when a familiar gasp is heard behind me just moments before someone rushes forward and I’m scooped into a familiar pair of arms that aren’t covered in tattoos.
Jackson carries me across the room and helps me onto the couch as the tears continue falling down my face. “What happened?” Kaylah demands from behind his shoulder, half cowering not to be seen, but her concern is too great to be ignored.
I shake my head as Jackson puts me down on the couch. “What are you doing here?”
Kaylah pouts out her bottom lip and it’s clear that despite whatever differences there are between us right now, she still cares a great deal about me. “Believe it or not,” she says. “I got a call from Rocko saying that you needed help. We came straight away.”