MeetYouThere

Chapter Twelve

I feel sick as I drive to Mark's flat, not wanting to hurt him, but I know this is the right thing to do. He deserves better than me. He should be with someone who will love him right, because I know I will never be able to do that. I park my car and head to the stairs, adjusting my checkered skirt and knit sweater as my heavy platform docs pound on each step. I finesse my shirt, one last time, my tattooed shoulder exposed before taking out my key and I check my phone for the time. Nine AM. I hope he's awake or I'm an even worse bitch.

Good morning! I'm breaking up with you.
Ugh.

The house is quiet as I enter, Matt at work, so Mark may indeed be sleeping. Fuck. I pass through the living room and head to his bedroom, noises hitting my ears in the hallway. I wonder if he's watching the telly or working out before I truly understand the noises I'm hearing, making me feel queasy. Standing in his doorframe my jaw drops as my suspicions become confirmed.

Mark stands at the end of his bed, his hips ramming into Amelia's ass as she kneels on her hands and knees on his bed. Both moaning and panting so loud they didn't hear me enter the house, but they both jump and turn when I loudly say, "WHAT THE FUCK?"

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I run to my car, barely seeing my way through the tears, absolutely mind blown at what just happened. I climb into my car and slam the door before I lower the sun visor, opening the mirror. I wipe my eyes to see better before adjusting the angle to my mouth, a cut on the side swell of my bottom lip, just as I feared.

"Fuck," I sigh, wiping the small smear of blood, the sight of it on my finger suddenly filling me with rage. "Fucking cock!" I scream, glaring out my window at his apartment, hating him.

I clench my jaw as I reach into my purse for my compact, knowing Ashton is going to fume. The crème foundation barely does anything, the wound still too new and fresh, so I decide to leave it alone until I get back to the hotel, and I will try to cover it up then.

I sit in the hotel garage for ten minutes, trying different ways with makeup, powder, and lipstick to cover the cut, all unsuccessful attempts. I sigh with frustration before I shove my shit back into my bag before I head inside, hoping I can make it to my room without seeing anyone and I can use some proper makeup to cover up this fucking reminder, when I get a text from Ash.

A:can you please come talk to me before you get mark? I really need to talk to you about something. Its urgent kat. Please.

I detour to his room, taking out my compact to press more powder over my lip, concealing the red, but sadly emphasizing the swollen parts. I sigh, giving up, I'll have to tell him sooner or later and better in his room than down with everyone else where he might cause a scene. I knock on his door and he opens it, wearing only his pants, a tight pair of black jeans, and a belt; the sight of him making my head reel and my hands itch to touch him before he speaks.

"Thank you," he lets out a sigh and steps aside so I can enter, going straight to the bed and taking a seat.

He begins pacing in front on me, his hands jumping from his hips to his wet hair, to his face; clearly nervous.

"I have to tell you something," he stops in front of me, one hand on his hip and another gripping his jaw. "And I know it's not fair for me. I know I need to respect your relationship with Mark, but I need to tell you, I have to or I'll regret it."

"I'm not with Mark anymore, Ash," I say quietly, hoping that will ease his anxiety.

"What? Since when?" he studies me, his eyes roaming my face before locking in on my busted lip. I watch as his eyes turn golden, almost yellow and his jaw becomes rigid as granite, his nostril flaring. "Did that fucker hit you?"