The Color of Her Lips

Chapter Twenty

Michael

I'm holding Ariana in my arms. Her breathing has calmed down, her heart is pounding at a normal rhythm.

I glance at her face. Her eyes are open but she's staring blankly at something. She's like lost in her head, and I'm scared of what could happen if she drowns herself in her thoughts.

"Hey," I whisper, but she doesn't hear me. "Ari," I say louder and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Do you wanna watch a movie? Do something else? Whatever might distract you."

She sits up and turns her head to me. "I'm not in the mood to watch a movie," she says, her voice still a little weak.

"Do you want to talk? We don't have to talk about you, of course," I reassure her. "Unless you want to..."

She shakes her head, her brown hair moving around her face. "No," she tells me. "I just..." She shakes her head again. "No, I probably shouldn't talk about this."

"About what?" I want her to know that she can talk to me about everything. I know she doesn't trust me, but maybe...

"Promise you won't ask any questions, Michael," she says.

I don't even hesitate. "I promise." If she wants to tell me, she will. After she starts trusting me.

"I didn't know Brandon was your brother," she starts. "I knew he was a DeAngelis but he denied when I asked him if he was related to you. I thought there might be other families with the same last name as yours."

I chuckle bitterly. "Of course he did." He has always hated me.

"Why did he?" she asks. "Feel free to answer or not."

I take a deep breath. "We have never been the best brother to each other. He couldn't stand me."

"Oh." She reflects for a few moments. "Why?" she asks again.

I shrug. "I was pretty good at everything, you know. I always managed to get good grades at school, I played sport, I played the piano...and I was my father's favorite, in a way." It feels weird to admit it.

"These things annoyed him, right?"

I nod.

"He changed his last name now," she reminds me.

"Yeah, I bet that woman is some rich douchebag's daughter with no respect for herself."

"Why would he change his last name?" She's asking so many questions.

"He hates his family too. My father left everything to me because he knew that Brandon would only waste that money on shit." This is painful to remember. It's still vivid in my memories the way Brandon threatened our father to 'smash his sick head'. The only problem, Dad was really sick.

Ariana lowers her eyes on her knees. "And...he never told you about his, uh...women?" Weird question. Why is she asking me this?

I shake my head. "No, except one day he stormed out of the house, saying that 'this fucking slut ruined everything, and I'll ruin her!'" I say, mocking his voice. "He was brutal."

She stays quiet, looking far away. She doesn't ask any further questions.

I frown, she's too silent. I lift her chin with two fingers and force her to look at me. "Hey..." Her beautiful green eyes are glassy, tears threatening to fall. "Ari, hey, what's wrong?" I urge to ask her.

Her lower lip trembles and she bites it. "Michael..." she says my name with a shaky voice, so weak that doesn't sound like hers. "Sometimes it's true that the past can't be left behind."

I look into her eyes, hurt and sad eyes. I'm confused. "Ari, what foes this mean?"

She takes a deep breath and blinks, heavy tears streaming down her cheeks. "I...I'm that slut he was talking about, Michael."

My eyes widen and my skin heats up with rage. I put two and two together. "He got you the scar."

She doesn't answer. And I take her silence as a yes.

"Oh my God. He deserves to be fucking dead."

I snap up to my feet and begin to collect my things: my jacket, my shoes, my phone, my wallet, and the beanie. I need out of here. I can't believe this. I want to find him and kill this bastard.

"Michael, where are you going? Don't you dare find him." I don't listen to her. "It happened a long time ago."

"I don't fucking care, Ariana! He hurt you, physically. And I'm sure mentally too."

She gets up from the bed and before I can close the room's door behind my shoulders, she grabs my wrist. "Michael! Listen to me."

"No, that why he's still out here. Because someone listened to you say it was 'a long time ago'!" And I yank her wrist away, closing the door and walking away.

My head is fuming. I have never liked my brother, I've always felt indifferent towards him, but now...I hate him to death. He deserves the same treatment he gave Ari, I don't even want to know why he hurt her like that because he shouldn't have touched her in the first place.

His hands turn every beautiful thing in a fucked up and screwed one. And Ari is one of them. And she doesn't fucking deserve it. No woman and no good man does.