Knife's Edge

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

On my way to Dylan's house it starts to rain - and by rain I mean it pisses it down. By the time I reach his front door I'm drenched – scraggly rat-tail hair, squelchy shoes, the whole pathetic shebang. Go figure, right?

I smack my fist against the door a couple of times, not checking to see if his parents car is there, not caring whether they're in or not. The door opens to reveal my boyfriend, barefoot in the same jeans and black hoodie he was wearing earlier. He looks confused to see me, his confusion soon morphing to concern when he actually sees me.

"Babe? What's wrong? What are you doing here? What – what the fuck happened to your head?" he chokes the last question out, reaching up to move my hair out of the way to get a better look at my mountain-sized bruise. The makeup probably washed off in the great flood on my way here.

I don't answer, pulling away from his hand before it makes contact. He doesn't get to ask the questions, not right now. I'm here to interrogate him, to prove that there has been some monumental misunderstanding and that everything's fine. Only, now that I'm here, I can't seem to form a single sodding syllable, let alone an entire question.

"Babe, what's wrong?" he asks again in my silence. He looks so worried about me, about the bruise, about the fact that I'm stood freezing my ass off in the pouring rain. I just have to know.

"Tell me she's lying," I finally spit out. A mixture of emotions swirls inside of me and I can't seem to settle on just one: anger, hurt, confusion, desperation... I have no idea which one he sees.

You want to know how I know? How I know that Abigail was, in fact, not lying? It's because he doesn't even need to ask what I'm talking about before his eyes light up with pure panic. Instead, he steps out into the rain with me and pulls the door closed behind him, informing me that his parents are home and he doesn't want them to overhear.

"Megan told you."

His words hit me like a truck. The tears come hot and fast, mixing with the rain against my scorching cheeks as I try to force air back into my lungs, but inside I turn completely calm. Maybe calm isn't the right word for it. I don't know. Numb is probably more accurate.

I let out a humourless laugh and shake my head.

"No. Abigail did. But that's all I needed to hear."

I turn around and start to walk away, unable to even look at him as he calls after me. My phone buzzes in my pocket but I don't need to check to see who it is. I don't want to talk to either of them.

"Jade, Jade wait," his hand on my arm spins me around to face him. My eyes still refuse to meet his, instead focusing on his feet as he stands barefoot in the rain. He sounds desperate, panicked as his words tumble over each other to rush out his mouth. "Babe, I swear to you it was a mistake. It meant nothing! We were drunk and stupid – so so stupid – and whatever it was that Abigail said? She probably exaggerated, she doesn't even know what went down and-"

"You know? I'd really rather not know either," I tell him, shaking my head and pushing his hand away. "Don't fucking touch me."

"Babe, please, I love you and I'm so fucking sorry. I swear we didn't-" he cuts off and shakes his head. "I mean we did but like it wasn't completely-"

"God, Dylan, just stop talking," I choke out. My throat hurts with the tears I force back, although not nearly as much as my chest does.

My cracked heart is completely shredded as I finally look at him, not just because of what he did but because of the pain I can clearly see he's feeling. Water droplets drip down from his hair and cling to his cheeks and I know there are tears there too. His heart is breaking as well and that fucking sucks.