hotline // luke hemmings

four.

Skylar

I woke up with a pounding headache. My dress still clung to my body, making me even more uncomfortable.

A glass of water and two pain killers rested on my bedside table. Luke must've put them there.

I gratefully took both, finishing off the glass of water before heading downstairs.

To my surprise, Luke was lying on the couch, sound asleep.

My eyes widened. He couldn't be here when my stepdad woke up.

I rushed over to him, shaking him lightly. He rolled over and groggily sat up.

"Oh hey, Skylar," he muttered, his voice thick with sleep.

"Morning. I hate to do this but you have to leave. Don't take it personally, okay? We can totally hang out another time, but you can't be here right now," I rambled.

I handed Luke my phone so that he could put his number in. He accepted it with a look of confusion, but proceeded to put his number in.

"I can take you home," I offered, but he shook his head. "I can get a ride. My friend Ashton lives right down the street."

I reluctantly nodded.

"Thanks for last night, by the way. You could've stayed somewhere besides the couch, you know."

"It was nothing really. I'll see you around, Skylar," he said, walking out. I shut the door behind him, rushing up the stairs to change into something else before my stepdad saw me.

Much to my dismay, I smashed right into him on the way back to my room.

His breath reeked of alcohol and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Where do you think you're going mis-s-sy?" he slurred.

I didn't respond, keeping my head down instead. He roughly grabbed my arm, forcing me to look at him.

"Don't dis-sres-spect me like that," he spat before slapping me across the face. Hard.

Tears threatened to spill from the sudden impact, but I blinked them away.

He took in my dress and smeared makeup, punching me in the stomach. "Wow, you sure know how to dress like a whore," he sneered as I hunched over, trying not to give into the nauseating feeling in my gut.

I clenched my jaw in anger, and attempted to release myself from his grip. Much to my surprise, he did let me go, but not before pushing me to the ground and kicking me repeatedly in the stomach.

The tears I had tried so hard to contain spilled over my cheeks and onto the wooden floor.

I reached for my phone, clicking on Calum's contact.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Cal, I need you," I sobbed.

"I'll be right over," he said before hanging up.

Ten minutes later there was the sound of the front door opening. Hearing my sobs, Calum raced over to me.

"Oh Sky," he said sadly. He carefully picked me up set me in his lap, gently running his fingers through my hair.

I cried into his shoulder, but he didn't mind. "It's okay, I'm here," he whispered.

He pulled me away from him to get a better look at the damage. Upon taking in my bruises and cuts he decided I needed to be taken to the hospital.

"I'm going to call an ambulance, okay? I ran here and don't have anything to drive you in," he admitted.

I weakly nodded, leaning back against him as he called the emergency services.

"They're on their way. You're going to be okay," he whispered.