Unraveling You
Page 29
Lyric: U didn’t by chance come to the party, did u?
Me: Yeah, I’m here right now. Where r u?
Lyric: In the bathroom.
Me: Okay, meet me in the kitchen when u come out.
Lyric: I can’t.
Me: Can’t what? Meet me in the kitchen?
Lyric: No, come out of the bathroom.
Me: R u sick?
Lyric: No.
Me: Then what’s wrong?
When she doesn’t respond, I grow anxious.
Me: R u hurt?
Lyric: Kind of.
Me: Lyric, where the fuck r u?
Lyric: I’m in the bathroom on the second floor near the start of the hallway. But, Ayden, u don’t need to come up here. I’m fine.
Like hell I don’t.
I knock people out of the way as I storm back through the kitchen and toward the massive spiral stairway that coils to the second floor. Different scenarios play in my head as my mind goes wild, trying to figure out what happened. With Lyric, it’s hard to say. The girl is a freaking daredevil, but for some reason, I’m betting this has to do with William.
The top of the stairs is much quieter and less populated. Only a group of seven or eight are lurking around, drinking and smoking, including Sage.
“Hey, do you know where the bathroom is?” I ask him as he takes a deep hit from a joint.
He coughs smoke in my face as he exhales, passing the rolled up paper to the next guy. “Sorry, about that,” he says as I fan my hand in front of my face. “Yeah, it’s the fifth door down, but I wouldn’t bother. Some chick’s been locked in there for like an hour.”
I’m off before he can even finish his sentence, rushing past doors. When I reach the fifth one, it’s locked, so I bang my fist against the heavy wood.
“Lyric, open the door. It’s me.”
A beat goes by before I hear the lock click. I push the door open and step into the dark, narrow room. Moonlight trickles in from the window above the bathtub, highlighting Lyric’s silhouette.
“Why the hell do you have the light off?” I feel around on the wall until my fingers brush against the switch. I flip it on, blinking against the bright light.
“You were right,” Lyric says, only her voice sounds so wrong, like it’s excruciating to speak, which might be because she has a swollen lip. “I’m way too trusting for my own good.”
My lips part in shock at the sight of her. Her cheeks are enflamed and one of the straps of her dress is missing, as if someone ripped it off. The front has fallen down, too, so I can see the top of her bra. Her blond hair is tangled around her pained face and mascara and tears stain her cheeks.
She cups her hand to her cheek. “God, my face fucking hurts.”
That yanks me out of my trance.
“What the hell did he do to you?” I pause when her fingers drift to the hem of her dress.
God, no. Please don’t let it be that. I don’t know if I can handle that. It’ll be too much, and I need to be able to handle this for her.
“Did he …?” I can’t even say it aloud, as I’m pulled away to a different time, place, life that binds me at the wrists and slices my flesh open.
I don’t want to remember it.
Please.
Don’t let me remember it.
Right now.
Ever.
She shakes her head, hugging her arms around herself. “No, he didn’t get that far.”
My breathing comes out ragged as I battle to stay calm. “Where is he?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably icing his balls.”
I cock my head to the side. “Huh?”
“Well, I did kick him there enough times that he probably won’t be able to have children anymore,” she says matter-of-factly, her eyes lacking so much emotion it kills me to look at them.
I miss her fire. Her life.
He better not have stolen that away from her.
Taken anything away from her.
I pierce my nails into the flesh of my palms. “How did you get the fat lip and the welt on your cheek?”
She lowers herself onto the shut toilet then drops her head into her hands. “I thought we were going outside and realized too late he was taking me to a bedroom. When we got in there, he locked the door and shoved me down on the bed. I hit my face on the headboard and bit my lip.”
I cautiously inch past the sink toward her. “What about your dress? How did it … get torn?”
Her breathing quickens and her bottom lip quivers. “I said he didn’t rape me, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t try.” She drags her fingers down her face as she stares helplessly at me. “God, I’m so stupid. You were right. I do think too much with my heart.”
Something snaps inside me. Breaks. Shatters. I’m not sure if it’s because she doubts her heart, or that he tried to rape her. Whatever it is, I can’t stop the thoughts from emerging.
House of locks. Walls of metal.
Searing pain. Scorching into me.
Branded forever, like bleeding ink.
I suck in an uneven breath.
William is going to fucking pay for what he did.
“I’ll be right back.” My voice is low and controlled, despite the fact that I feel more out of control than I ever have. I reel around and yank the door open.
“No, Ayden, don’t,” Lyric begs, hopping up from the toilet and chasing after me.
But I storm out the door, slamming it behind me with only a single thought in my mind.
Make William pay.
Protect Lyric.
Like no one ever did for me.
Me: Yeah, I’m here right now. Where r u?
Lyric: In the bathroom.
Me: Okay, meet me in the kitchen when u come out.
Lyric: I can’t.
Me: Can’t what? Meet me in the kitchen?
Lyric: No, come out of the bathroom.
Me: R u sick?
Lyric: No.
Me: Then what’s wrong?
When she doesn’t respond, I grow anxious.
Me: R u hurt?
Lyric: Kind of.
Me: Lyric, where the fuck r u?
Lyric: I’m in the bathroom on the second floor near the start of the hallway. But, Ayden, u don’t need to come up here. I’m fine.
Like hell I don’t.
I knock people out of the way as I storm back through the kitchen and toward the massive spiral stairway that coils to the second floor. Different scenarios play in my head as my mind goes wild, trying to figure out what happened. With Lyric, it’s hard to say. The girl is a freaking daredevil, but for some reason, I’m betting this has to do with William.
The top of the stairs is much quieter and less populated. Only a group of seven or eight are lurking around, drinking and smoking, including Sage.
“Hey, do you know where the bathroom is?” I ask him as he takes a deep hit from a joint.
He coughs smoke in my face as he exhales, passing the rolled up paper to the next guy. “Sorry, about that,” he says as I fan my hand in front of my face. “Yeah, it’s the fifth door down, but I wouldn’t bother. Some chick’s been locked in there for like an hour.”
I’m off before he can even finish his sentence, rushing past doors. When I reach the fifth one, it’s locked, so I bang my fist against the heavy wood.
“Lyric, open the door. It’s me.”
A beat goes by before I hear the lock click. I push the door open and step into the dark, narrow room. Moonlight trickles in from the window above the bathtub, highlighting Lyric’s silhouette.
“Why the hell do you have the light off?” I feel around on the wall until my fingers brush against the switch. I flip it on, blinking against the bright light.
“You were right,” Lyric says, only her voice sounds so wrong, like it’s excruciating to speak, which might be because she has a swollen lip. “I’m way too trusting for my own good.”
My lips part in shock at the sight of her. Her cheeks are enflamed and one of the straps of her dress is missing, as if someone ripped it off. The front has fallen down, too, so I can see the top of her bra. Her blond hair is tangled around her pained face and mascara and tears stain her cheeks.
She cups her hand to her cheek. “God, my face fucking hurts.”
That yanks me out of my trance.
“What the hell did he do to you?” I pause when her fingers drift to the hem of her dress.
God, no. Please don’t let it be that. I don’t know if I can handle that. It’ll be too much, and I need to be able to handle this for her.
“Did he …?” I can’t even say it aloud, as I’m pulled away to a different time, place, life that binds me at the wrists and slices my flesh open.
I don’t want to remember it.
Please.
Don’t let me remember it.
Right now.
Ever.
She shakes her head, hugging her arms around herself. “No, he didn’t get that far.”
My breathing comes out ragged as I battle to stay calm. “Where is he?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably icing his balls.”
I cock my head to the side. “Huh?”
“Well, I did kick him there enough times that he probably won’t be able to have children anymore,” she says matter-of-factly, her eyes lacking so much emotion it kills me to look at them.
I miss her fire. Her life.
He better not have stolen that away from her.
Taken anything away from her.
I pierce my nails into the flesh of my palms. “How did you get the fat lip and the welt on your cheek?”
She lowers herself onto the shut toilet then drops her head into her hands. “I thought we were going outside and realized too late he was taking me to a bedroom. When we got in there, he locked the door and shoved me down on the bed. I hit my face on the headboard and bit my lip.”
I cautiously inch past the sink toward her. “What about your dress? How did it … get torn?”
Her breathing quickens and her bottom lip quivers. “I said he didn’t rape me, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t try.” She drags her fingers down her face as she stares helplessly at me. “God, I’m so stupid. You were right. I do think too much with my heart.”
Something snaps inside me. Breaks. Shatters. I’m not sure if it’s because she doubts her heart, or that he tried to rape her. Whatever it is, I can’t stop the thoughts from emerging.
House of locks. Walls of metal.
Searing pain. Scorching into me.
Branded forever, like bleeding ink.
I suck in an uneven breath.
William is going to fucking pay for what he did.
“I’ll be right back.” My voice is low and controlled, despite the fact that I feel more out of control than I ever have. I reel around and yank the door open.
“No, Ayden, don’t,” Lyric begs, hopping up from the toilet and chasing after me.
But I storm out the door, slamming it behind me with only a single thought in my mind.
Make William pay.
Protect Lyric.
Like no one ever did for me.
