The Bad Boy From Boston

His Bad Side

CHAPTER TWELVE

April's P.O.V.

Dean was driving me home. It was mostly a silent ride, besides him wanting to know why I would go for a jog out of town by myself. Even though I tried explaining that I lost track of where I was going.

He was acting strange. I mean, he's always been protective of me, but he was acting weirder that usual.

I tried asking what was wrong, but he wasn't giving me a straight forward answer, so I just gave up.

After a few minutes, we pulled into my driveway.

"Thank you." I said to him softly. Then leaned in and pressed my lips against his. I started to run my fingers through his hair.

God, I loved his hair.

Dean began moving his hands over my upper body. My whole back, sides, arms and shoulders. He slowly moved his lips down in a trail of smooth kisses to my neck, which made me shiver. While he was kissing my neck, I started to speak.

"Do you want to come inside?" I asked out, of breath.

Suddenly, he pulled away.

"No, no. Sorry. I actually have to go." He said frantically, trying to collect himself. "Go inside, and don't forget to lock the door behind you."

"Alright," I said laughing. "I won't."

"I love you April." Dean said to me through the window as I walked to my door.

I ran back to his truck and kissed him on the cheek.

"I love you too" I whispered into his ear.

~

"GET OUT! JUST GET OUT!" I heard from next door. I rolled over to look at the clock. 1:00 a.m.

I ran downstairs to see if my mom or Travis were home. Both were gone. Typical.

I looked out my kitchen window to find Dean's house lights on, and shadowed running back and forth.

Then more screaming came along.

"WELL FUCK YOU TOO DAD! MAYBE IF YOU NEVER LEFT MOM, I'D TURN OUT THE WAY YOU WANTED! ASSHOLE! I'M LEAVING!' I heard Dean's voice project though my window.

I watched as the shadow made it's way to the front of the house. I followed, then I heard a slam. And the sound of a truck start. I ran to my front door with bare feet.

Man was I cold. All I had on was a big t-shirt and underwear. The usual.

I opened the door to find Dean sitting in his truck, hands on the wheel, his head resting on it as well.

I tip toed to the driver's side, trying not to hurt my feet on a possible rock. I laid my hand on his shoulder.

"Come with me." I softly. He looked up, and did a little fake smile.

He pulled his keys out of the ignition, and stepped out. I wrapped my arm around his, and we made our way to my house. When we got up to my room, Dean sat on the edge of my bed and grabbed his hair in anger.

I noticed he was all sweaty, and had some cuts and blood on him.

"Dean, what happened?" I asked, scared of the answer. "Did your dad hit you?"

"No, he didn't hit me.." He trailed off. "Someone else did."

"Who Dean?" I asked.

"No one, no one April." He said, then looked at me. "Can I borrow something to clean up with?"