Unraveled (9 page)

“Not locked up,
Blayre. You'd have the ability to sign yourself out since you are eighteen. I
think it would be good for you to enter a rehabilitation facility where you can
get the help you need—”

“Screw you,
Noah!” I yell furiously as I back away from him. “Oh wait, I almost did that
already, didn't I? So one night of almost sex and suddenly you know me better
than myself? Suddenly you're all knowing as to what I should be doing with my
life because it's your job to fix it? Go to hell!”

Noah closes
his eyes and his head drops with defeat. “I handled this all wrong.” I make a
move to walk past him because I need to get away and put some distance between
us but his hand shoots out. He grabs my arm, his brown eyes troubled. “I can't
force you to get help. I get that. You have to be the one to want it. I just
want to help you and I feel completely helpless.”

“I don't
need or want rehabilitation. I'm moving on with my life and I can get better on
my own.” There is no way I am going to sign myself into some freak hospital where
they could drug me up and pick my brains.

Noah studies
me for a long moment. “Are we okay or did I just undo everything we just
accomplished earlier this evening?”

“Seriously?”

“Do I look
serious?”

Yeah, he
does. “You're worried I'm going to hold a grudge?”

“Yes.”

“I'm...no,”
I mutter. “You're impossible to stay mad at.” I'd been furious a few minutes
ago but the fact that he's concerned I am upset with him has my heart melting a
little bit.

Noah slowly
relaxes. “Okay. I think we better call it quits for the night.”

“I think so
too.”

“Blayre?”

“Yeah?” I
ask warily.

“I dredged
up a lot of stuff tonight. Will you please promise me you won't do anything to
yourself?” he asks with troubled eyes.

I purse my
lips and refuse to say anything.

Noah's jaw clenches.
“Good night, Blayre,” he says softly before he turns and walks out of my
bedroom.

The second
he disappears, I walk calmly to my door and shut it firmly before locking it.

Feeling
drained, angry and confused, I walk over to the corner of my room and kneel
down to where the carpet is a little loose. I take out the small blade I'd
pulled out of a cheap razor the other day and walk back to my bed where I sit
down. All the cheap shavers I'd had are gone and Noah had replaced them with an
electric shaver last week. I'd been annoyed but in reality, he couldn't stop me
from what I needed.

I grab some
tissue from within my nightstand and set it on my bed before wiggling out of my
shorts.

The next day
pretty much goes the same as the one before it. Cole doesn't approach me and I
focus my attention on school. When I get home, I once again set up my homework
at the kitchen table and I can tell my brother is pleased that I am sticking
around the house and no longer going out with Cole.

As I work on
my homework after Tate leaves, my mind shifts every so often to Noah and our
conversation last night. Not that I'd ever admit it to him but he did have a
point. Cutting wasn't something I was going to be able to stop on my own. I've
relied on it too long. I've also known for a while that I am seriously messed
up and I have no idea how to get better. I know I'm taking a step in the right
direction because unloading some of my stuff on Noah last night had made me
feel slightly better this morning when I'd woken up. I was able to look at
things with a fresh perspective.

It feels
good to know that someone knows my secret. Before, the idea has always
frightened me but now that I no longer have to hide it from Noah, I feel
better. I also realize that he only wants to help. For some strange reason, the
man cares about me. I have no idea what I've done to earn someone like him in
my life but I guess it's meant to be. Now that he knows most of the bad things
about me and hasn't run off yet, I feel good about our friendship.

Just as long
as he quits with this rehabilitation stuff. I am
not
signing up for that
crap. If I do anything, it would be maybe a counseling session here and there.
That's all I'm willing to do in order to start getting better. At least that
way I have more control over the situation. I could literally walk out the door
whenever I want. No matter what Noah says, if I chose rehab and decide I've had
enough and want out, I wouldn't be able to walk straight out of there. There'd
be people there to try to talk me out of it and they'd be pushy and determined.

I'm still
working on homework when I hear Noah come home. He walks through the garage
door with his backpack slung over his shoulder and he smiles warmly when he
sees me. “Hey.”

I smile back
as if yesterday's outburst in my bedroom never happened. “Hey back.”

He walks
over and unzips his backpack before pulling out a Styrofoam take-out container.
“I wouldn't want you to starve while I work tonight.”

Whatever it
is, it smells wonderful. I lift the lid and take in the big fat juicy burger
with a side order of fries that he'd obviously picked up from Soloman's on his
way home. I look up at him with a huge grin. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“I'm doing a
bit of groveling.”

“Groveling?”

“Yeah,” he
says as his eyes meet mine. “Last night
I
was pushing what I want for
you and it wasn't right.”

“Thanks,” I
say softly.

“I need to
hit the shower before work. Text me tonight if you need anything, okay?” He
hesitates as if he has something else on his mind he wants to say.

“Just say
it,” I say as I steal a fry and pop it in my mouth.

“If you find
yourself thinking about Cole, text me instead. He's bad news, Blayre.”

“Will do,” I
say lightly.

Relief
flickers in his gaze before he turns and heads for the hallway.

A couple of
hours later my cell phone chimes on the table next to my arm, startling me. A
smile curves my lips as I pick it up. Noah's checking up on me already.

I scan the
new message and freeze. COLE: 
Meet me tonight?

My teeth
sink into my lower lip as I stare at the little screen. Someone is obviously
done being mad. I miss Cole but I'm also realizing I've managed to get through
the past few days without him because I knew Noah would be here.

Noah.

With the
press of a button, I shut my phone off and calmly set it on the table. It's
time to start making the right choices and Cole's definitely not a part of that
category. I turn back to my homework but my concentration is shot.

I sigh
loudly in the empty kitchen and my eyes fall on the pool outside the patio
doors. Soon the temperatures would be dropping and it'd be too chilly out to
swim since the pool wasn't heated. An evening swim sounded absolutely wonderful
and I had a brand new bikini waiting for me upstairs.

Cole corners
me at my locker the next morning and I'm hit with a barrage of emotions.
There's still a part of me that wants to move right into his arms where I feel
like I belong.

No. That's
not right.

I don't
belong
there. It's where I'm most comfortable because it's my excuse to hide.

“You didn't
answer my text last night,” Cole says as he frowns at me as if nothing had
happened earlier this week.

I avoid
looking at him as I open my locker and unzip my backpack, shoving my books
inside that I wouldn't need until later in the day. “I was busy.”

“Busy doing
what?”

“Homework
for one. I've skipped too much.”

“You're
still mad,” he says.

Now I turn
and give him a cool look. “Did you think I wouldn't be?”

His green
eyes search mine. “C'mon, Blayre. It's in the past, time to move on.”

“That's it?”
I ask with amazement. “We had a few days of space and that fixed it?”

“What is up
with you?”

My mouth
opens and I am ready to unleash my desire to break up when it dawns on me that
school is probably the worst place for this to go down at. We need to talk in
private, especially since we have the robbery secret hanging over our heads.
“Can you stop by later? I think we have some things to sort out.”

“Let's hit
my place. It's Friday so Ethan will be gone until late.”

  
I don't want him getting any ideas and going to his place would for sure give
him the wrong impression of the discussion I have planned. “I'd rather mine.
Noah works tonight, so maybe you could drop by around eight or nine?”

“Fine.”

“Okay. See
you then.” I shut my locker and rush off down the hall, not wanting to drag the
conversation out any longer than it needs to be.

That evening
I pace the living room as I wait for Cole to arrive. I
have
to break it
off with him. My conscious has been telling me this for a while now and I know
Cole isn't healthy for me. It's time to start facing my issues instead of
avoiding them and Cole makes it too easy for me to grow numb and ignore it all.

  
My mind is pretty much made up but I am betting Cole wasn't going to be happy
with me at all. I'm kind of worried about that. He's temperamental and I can
only hope that being in my home would be enough for him to keep his temper
intact. I chew my lip and wonder if maybe I should have at least text messaged
Noah to let him know I am breaking up with Cole tonight. If things got out of
hand...

Then again,
if things got out of hand and Noah were here, things would get even worse.

I'm worried
my boyfriend—soon to be ex—is going to get violent with me. Now if that doesn't
tell me something is wrong with our relationship, I don't know what will. And
for shits sake, shouldn't I have thought about this earlier instead of only minutes
before his arrival?

I can hear a
motorcycle coming down the street and I wipe my sweaty hands on my shorts.
Okay, I can do this. So he'd be mad. Big deal. He'd get over it.

By the time
Cole rings the doorbell, I've managed to calm myself. When I open the door I
can't help but think he looks good. Cole
always
looks appealing to me.
“Hey,” he says as he steps inside and watches me shut the door.

“We
have—oomph!” I grunt as he grabs me and tosses me over his broad shoulder
before heading through the living room and towards the hallway. “Cole! What are
you doing? Put me down!”

He slaps my
ass playfully as he heads upstairs. “What do you think I'm doing?”

I'm hanging
over his shoulder and it's digging into my stomach. I try to grab his back to
keep myself steady so I'm not hanging upside down, my long hair falling in my
face. “I didn't invite you over to have sex!”

Cole enters
my room and tosses me on my bed, his grin wicked. “Right,” he says as he strips
off his shirt before he falls on top of me, his lips on mine before I can
protest.

The second
his lips touch mine, I feel myself faltering. God, I've missed this. His tongue
slips between my lips and he kisses me deeply while his hand slides down to the
button on my shorts. Alarm sweeps through me and I tear my lips from his.
“Cole, I am not playing around. I want to talk.”

I'm losing
control of this situation and I struggle to gain it back.

“Talk
later,” he says, his lips coming back to mine.

“I want to
break up!”

Cole goes
completely still on top of me and it's really eerie how his expression shifts
and his eyes narrow. “What did you say?” He asks as he pulls back slightly to
stare down at me.

“I want to
break up,” I repeat again, this time more calmly.

“You want to
break up because I went after that Noah guy?” he asks a bit scornfully. He
clearly doesn't believe me.

“No. I want
to break up because it's time we go our own way.” I wiggle out of his embrace
and sit up.

Cole is
silent and the expression on his face isn't very promising. He sits up and runs
a hand though his hair, his muscles tensing with every move since they are
currently on full display, his shirt discarded on my floor.

Unease
sweeps through me. I've always enjoyed those muscles but right now I'm
beginning to feel a hint of apprehension. I was a fool to think I could handle
this.

“
You
are breaking up with
me?
” he asks in a deceptively calm voice.

“I promise I
won't say anything about the robbery,” I say as I climb off the bed. “I'll take
the secret with me to the grave. But I don't think we're good for each other.
You told me a long time ago that if I couldn't handle your life, you'd cut me
loose, remember? Well, this is me not wanting a part of it anymore.”

“That's a
load of shit. You think I didn't notice how much you enjoy the high? You
enjoyed every single second of being with me,” he says as he slowly stands up
and walks towards me, his green eyes frighteningly determined.

I stiffen
where I stand and my heart thuds erratically in my chest. This is going downhill
fast.

“You
need
me.”

“Cole,
things have changed. I'm ready to start sorting out my life.”

“What's
there to sort out? You think your life is going to get any better? You helped
me kill someone and you take a blade to yourself when you're alone. There is no
better for you,” he says callously.

“You're an
asshole,” I retort.

“So I've
been told. What gives? You couldn't get enough of me just a week ago.”

“That was
last week. As I said, things have changed.”

His eyes
turn suspicious. “This Noah guy enters the picture and suddenly things are
changing. It's him, isn't it?”

“No, of
course not. He's just a friend.”

His eyes
sharpen and snap accusingly at me. “Now he's your
friend
instead of your
housemate?”

Oh, hell.
I'm handling this badly and the way he's acting has me rattled.

“You fucked
him, didn't you?” he suddenly growls.

“No! I swear
I haven't slept with him,” I insist as dread fills me.

Betrayal
flares in Cole's eyes. “I know you well enough to know when you're lying.”

There's no
going back now because he knows and there's no point in continuing to lie. It's
time to be a big girl and own up to it. “It wasn't deliberate,” I say in a
resigned voice. “We almost had sex once and it hasn't happened since. I've made
it clear to him that he's just a friend.”

“You messed
with him,” he says softly as he looks momentarily stricken by my admission.

“I'm sorry,”
I say and I truly mean it. Cole's my boyfriend and I've betrayed him. Somewhere
inside him I can see that he really cares for me because it's right there in
his gaze. He looks wounded and I feel horrible. I deserve his anger but not his
violence. I'm just hoping he holds it together and doesn't take it out on me.

“You're the
first girl I've actually been faithful to and you
cheat
on me?” he asks
as his voice begins to rise with anger. It's like a switch flips and I see rage
swirling in those eyes of his.

There is no
warning before his fist swings out and slams into my cheek. I wasn't prepared
for it and the force of it has me tripping and falling sideways to the carpet.
My face throbs and I instinctively know I'm in trouble. I look up to see his
fist coming at me again. I've been through this enough times to know I need to
try to protect myself. His fist slams into my face once more before I can pull
myself into a fetal position on the carpet, trying to protect the vital parts
of my body. His fists rain down on me and he throws in a couple of kicks for
good measure. My ribs explode with pain and I find myself zoning out.

  
I am not here and I'm not being beat up by my boyfriend. This isn't happening.
I think of Noah at work tending bar. He's probably smiling right now and
filling drinks. Was he thinking of me? I wish I was there sitting at the bar
where the warmth of his gaze always penetrates right into my soul.

“Was it
worth it?” Cole asks coldly, his voice cutting into my thoughts.

I come back
to the present and while the pain is horrible, it is nothing new. I numb myself
to it as I slowly drop my arms from my face when I realize Cole's done
punishing me. I look up at him and I feel blood trickle down my chin.

He stands
above me, his eyes cruel. “Was it?”

“Yes,” I
whisper. I shouldn't really push him anymore than he's been pushed tonight but
I'm done. This is the last straw. I am fully to blame for wrecking our
relationship but his violent outburst is all on him.

Cole moves
and I brace myself, thinking he's going to hit me but instead he kneels down
and his hand tangles in my dark hair before he jerks my head back, causing me
to wince. My throat is bared to him and I have no choice but to defiantly meet
his gaze. “If you press charges, I will go after Paige's little brother. He's
easy picking with her gone. Got me?”

“You're a
bastard,” I hiss as I swallow a bit of my own blood that's oozing from my split
lip.

He smiles
down at me ruthlessly. “You've always known it and liked it.”

“Not
tonight.”

“I don't
give a fuck what you want or like. You keep that brother of yours away from me
or I'll find a way to make you pay and trust me, I can make it happen,” he
warns before he releases my hair and stalks out of my room.

I lay there
and refuse to move until I hear his motorcycle pull out of the driveway and
disappear down the street. Tears fill my eyes at how the night has gone down.
How had I not seen this coming? Cole is physically abusive and I should have
thought this all out a little more before simply acting on what I felt I needed
to do at the time. If it weren't for my part in the robbery, I would have done
this in public.

I should
have done this in public anyway.

My head
slowly drops to the carpet with defeat.

The
following morning, I'm in a lot of pain. I have no clue what I look like and
I'm dreading the first look in the mirror. When I'd cleaned myself up last
night, I'd had a split lip, a bruise on my jaw and one cheek bone had begun to
swell and darken. I'm sure over night the bruising had grown worse. Once Cole
had left, I'd cleaned the little bit of blood off my carpet, cleaned my lip and
then I'd taken as much Ibuprofen as I dared before I'd gone to bed for the
night.

Today is
going to be a nightmare. It's Saturday and that means facing Tate since he is
usually around in the mornings and out in the evenings. Then there's Noah. Both
of them are going to be pissed and I have yet to figure out a way to keep Tate
from going after Cole. There is no way to come up with a plausible excuse for
the beating I'd endured. Especially not when Noah already knows that Cole is
violent.

As I lay in
my bed and listen to Noah shower in the bathroom across the hall, I stare up at
the ceiling. My ribs are throbbing something fierce and every time I open my
mouth, my jaw aches and my split lip protests. It's been a long time since I've
been knocked around like this.

My mind
eventually shifts to Cole's threats last night. I am eighteen so nobody can
make me press charges and that's good, because I have no intention of doing so.
I know Tate's not going to understand my reasoning but since it's my face that
got smashed in, it is up to me—not him.

When I hear
the shower shut off in the bathroom, I wonder how long I can get away hiding
out in my room before one of them comes up to check on me. But then I'd be
lying around all day, dreading and putting off the inevitable. It's probably
better to just get it done with.