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52

*Blake*

As Elena's words register, all the oxygen feels like it has been ripped from my lungs.

"Your sweatshirt is gone"

My entire head begins to spin and my throat tightens– it can't be gone. 

I can't even begin to understand the motivation behind Lucas taking an article of our clothing, but I will literally fucking murder him if that's what it takes to get it back. 

"I'm so sorry B... you told me to not let anything happen to it," Elena chokes out, refusing to look at me as we sit down on her bed again. 

My heart only breaks further at her apology. She isn't responsible for Lucas' psychotic behavior and even though a part of me wants to be mad at her for this, I can't be. Neither of us could've known this would happen. 

"It's not your fault," I manage to reassure her, my voice quivering as I struggle to keep my composure.

Elena buries her face in my shoulder, tears streaming down her cheeks. Despite my seething anger, I do my best to comfort her. 

This heightened level of anger is something I've only felt once before in my entire life, and during that short amount of time, I completely lost control of myself.

When I look around at the state of her broken room, I feel physically sick at everything Lucas destroyed. Her Xbox is practically shattered to pieces, and all of her game cases are cracked too. 

The flowers I got her lay crushed across the floor, and even through the whirlwind of emotions swirling in my head, I make a mental note to buy her a new bouquet when all of this is taken care of. 

I breathe out a sigh of small relief when I remember that she put her other birthday gifts from me in the closet, which she closed before we left for the game today. 

After around 5 minutes of silence only being broken by Elena's stifled sobs, more anger continues to course through my veins with every tear I feel streaming down my arm. 

Suddenly, Elena raises her head from my shoulder, pulling away with a determined look on her face. She then shoots up from the bed and takes a deep breath while wiping away her tears, obviously trying to collect herself. 

"Get up, we're going to Lucas's house. We're getting it back."

Her voice comes out stern and I know she is serious, but I protest anyway. "Elena, you aren't coming with me, I don't want you involved in that. You should stay here and-"

"I don't fucking care Blake!" she shouts. "I'm sick of crying and I'm sick of being scared! Put your shoes on now. We're going!" 

I open my mouth to argue back, but she storms out of the room before I can. 

I know Elena has to be in a state of shock, unable to comprehend how dangerous this could be. If Lucas is insane enough to break into her room after seeing us kiss on the field and after hearing whatever lies Abby has probably fed him, then there is no telling what he might do when he sees us together in his house. 

I'm not worried about Lucas hurting her– I'd snap every bone in his body if he even tried. What I'm worried about is what Elena will think of me if I lose control, and something tells me that the second I see Lucas, I will. 

I can't bear the thought of Elena witnessing the raw, uncontrollable rage that hasn't surfaced in my emotions in over five years. There is a whole other side to me that nobody, except for my father, has ever truly witnessed. 

But this has gone on long enough, and I promised to always protect her.

When I hear Elena shout for me to hurry up from across the house, it solidifies my thoughts that there is no convincing her to stay. Despite all of her prized possessions being torn to pieces, all she cares about is getting my hoodie back.