Unraveled (10 page)

There's
nothing but silence coming from the bathroom across the hall and I realize Noah
must have gone downstairs.

Slowly and
gingerly, I ease up into a sitting position and fight back a moan as pain
streaks through my ribs. I find myself holding my breath until the pain eases
before slowly rising to my feet. My entire body aches and I'm sure I'm black
and blue all over. I look down at myself and immediately spot a large bruise on
one thigh and I sigh. Great. I'm sure it's going to get much worse when I look
in the mirror and I wonder how much I would be able to cover with makeup.

After a
brief hesitation, I open my bedroom door and head for the bathroom before I
realize Noah's still in there with the door wide open. He's shirtless and he's
just finishing up shaving. I quickly spin around to go back to my room but the
abrupt movement causes a spasm of pain and I falter slightly.

Noah must
have caught a glimpse of me because he says my name.

I stand frozen
near my doorway, my back to him. I'm not ready for this yet. I'd been hoping I
could somehow hide some of the bruising before anyone saw me but now that's no
longer possible.

“Blayre?”
Noah asks and I can hear the frown in his voice.

With a
resigned sigh, I reluctantly turn around to look at him as I brace myself for
his reaction.

Noah takes
one look at me and his eyes widen with alarm, the color draining from his face.
“What happened?” he demands as he rushes toward me, his hand gently easing my
hair away from my battered face. Realization flickers across his face as his
eyes meet mine. “Cole.”

“I broke up
with him last night.” I look at him sheepishly. “I thought I could handle him.”

Noah's jaw
clenches and I see his body actually tremble with anger before his eyes drop
and he scans my body. A muttered expletive leaves his mouth when his eyes pause
near my collar bone before zeroing in on the bruise on my thigh. Today my
little boxer shorts are definitely working against me.

Noah reaches
for the hem of my shirt and his eyes meet mine questioningly. “May I?”

I realize he
wants to inspect my injuries. “I'm fine, Noah,” I insist as I grab my shirt out
of his hands.

“No, I don't
think you are. It's obvious he hurt you wherever he could reach. I need to see,
Blayre.”

“Fine,” I
mutter as my hands drop.

He gently
eases my shirt up past my stomach and then higher to where he can see my ribs.
They ache painfully and I'm pretty sure there are ugly bruises marring my
entire right side. His breath catches before his eyes lift to mine and they are
filled with emotion. “I have to ask, did he do more than just beat you?” he
asks in a thick voice.

“What?”

“Rape,” he
says flatly. “Did he?”

“No! He
wouldn't do that,” I protest.

Noah stares
at me incredulously. “You think he doesn't have it in him to rape? He beat the
shit out of you last night! There is obvious no line with him.”

I reach up
and tug my shirt down and see that Noah has pulled his cell phone out of his
pocket. “What are you doing?” I ask, but he's not looking at me. I wave a hand
in his face to get his attention from the phone he's busily text messaging on.
I repeat my question when his eyes flicker to my face.

“Marley's a
nurse,” he says before he his eyes are back on his phone.

This time I
grab his wrist to make him pay attention to me and I wait until he frowns at
me. “I am not going to the hospital,” I say firmly.

“I'm asking
Marley to come look at you. Just give me a second,” he says before he quickly
finishes up his message before sending it. Then he focus's his full attention
on me. “He could have broken a couple ribs, Blayre.”

“They aren't
broken, I'd know it.”

“You would,
wouldn't you?” he asks tightly, his face turning away slightly and I know he's
remembering that I've been through this too many times to count. His phone
buzzes softly in his hand and he lifts it to scan it briefly. “She's on her
way,” he says before he looks back at me. “Tate's running errands, thank God.
Go lay down until Marley gets here. Have you taken anything for the pain?”

“No, not
yet.”   

“I'll go
grab something,” he says before he turns and heads back to the bathroom across
the hall.

I feel bad
he's trying to take care of me when I am the one who screwed up so badly. As I
walk back to my bed and carefully lay down, I realize it's going to be a long
and painful day.

Noah comes
back with a bottle of Ibuprofen and a glass of water. He hands both to me and
sits down near my hip. “What happened?” he asks as his eyes search mine.

After
swallowing a handful of pills, I set the empty glass on my nightstand and
settle back against the pillows. I can't help but look at him guiltily because
I should have thought things through yesterday instead of just diving in with
both feet. “I asked him over here so I could break up with him. I didn't think
he'd take it as badly as he did.”

“He did this
to you
here?
”

“I'm sorry.
I should have chosen somewhere public,” I say warily. “He figured out something
was up between us and jumped to the conclusion we slept together. It pushed him
over the edge.” I look at him uneasily and feel a trickle of apprehension
trickle through my veins as I remember Cole's expression. “He just...went into
a rage. It was like his eyes were vacant and he wasn't even aware he was
hitting me. Like he was on auto-pilot or something.”

Noah doesn't
say anything as he runs a hand through his damp hair. His expression looks
slightly pained and I can tell he's trying to control his temper.

“Noah,
Tate's going to go after Cole,” I say worriedly.

“
I
want to go after Cole.”

“I know but
you can't. It's over with, okay? We're done and I won't be seeing him again. I
need you both to just leave it be,” I plead.

“Leave it
be?” he stares at me almost angrily. “You can't be serious, Blayre.”

“I'm the one
it happened to!”

“You think I
don't know that every time I look at your bruised face? Have you seen what you
look like this morning?”

“Not yet.”

“It's bad.”

“I figured
as much.”

Noah looks
away, frustration etched on his features.

I touch his
hand to get his attention and once he's looking at me again, I say, “You need
to help with Tate. He'll go after Cole and as a cop that could kill his career.
Please, Noah.”

His hand
tightens briefly around mine before he sighs and pulls his phone back out of
his pocket. He releases my hand and sends off another quick text message and
immediately gets a response back. “Vince is on his way as well. He's a cop
himself and it'll be easier for him to talk more sense into your brother.”

“Thank you,”
I say with relief as I reach for his hand again, slipping my fingers through
his.

Noah
swallows hard, his dark eyes looking bleak. “I just want to hold you but I'm
scared I'll hurt you.”

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...”

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 under 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.