Always You || Patrick Cripps

50.

Georgia's POV

At first impression, I thought they were joking around. Shoving each other merely to boost their own ego. It was something footy players carried with them onto the field. Their self-esteem larger than them most of the time.

I seemed to believe it was something they saved for the footy field. Reserving it for melees was typically the case.

That appeared wrong as soon as I arrived at the boys house and saw my ex-boyfriend with his hands clung to the collar of Pat's shirt.

Pushing each other back and forth, as it went on it got a bit more intense. My own instinct made me jump out of the car as fast I did.

And that was when I noticed that it wasn't mere joshing around, but there was some sort of struggle going on. Pat appeared to have already taken a few hits. His body arched over, instinctively trying to protect himself from Darcy's rampage.

I was in a bit of a dilemma at that point. Instinct and everything moral you have ever been taught tells you that you should step in and help. Self-preservation warned me to not even think about it.

I was still so disappointed in him. Everything he had done hadn't been erased just because he was in a compromising situation. But I wasn't going to let him be on the receiving end of Darcy's frustrations, I knew what that felt like.

I wanted to move forward but it would mean having to come in between them. I knew it could end badly but I couldn't stand there and watch it drag on any longer.

"Darcy what the hell are you doing here?" I hawed apprehensively toward him.

I glowered down at him to no avail.

"Georgia just stay out of it" he growled back at me, never leaving Pat's eye contact, not even for a second to look at me on the verge of tears beside him.

"No. You all have no reason to be here. What has he ever done to you?" I snapped at him.

I was standing at an appropriate distance to stay out of the way, but also one where I could try to calm them both down.

The egotistical manor in which Darcy stood gave me little confidence that I was going to have an impact on the outcome.

I was hoping they would release their clenched fists from each others clothes, but the longer I stood, I could have sworn it just got tighter.

"How do you think I got this scar? He came to my house and beat the crap out of me. I'm just returning the favour" The shorter of the two said, releasing one hand to direct my eyes to the arc of his eyebrow.

A fraction of his face I hadn't seen until now. Heavily engraved with a scar that stretched across his eyebrow and up to his forehead.

It didn't look recent. More so that it had been heeling for a few months. I scanned it for a few seconds, my mind running in circles trying to grasp what I had been told.

I wasn't astounded at the news. In fact the retaliation towards Darcy was believable. After all he had put us through, Pat hated his guts.

I was more disappointed that I never learned of these events. Pat had been in a physical fight, about me, over me, whatever you want to call it. Yet I had no knowledge of such.

It was disheartening to say the least. I always hated when Pat got violent. It was a side of him I never found joy in seeing. This time, I understood why, but that didn't change the fact that he hid the truth from me once more.

My cold gaze fixed on my anxious friend, but focused on the empty space in the air between us. Pat held onto the contact between us. Unapologetic in his stare, he still held so much emotion within his eyes.