Chapter 3 - Maybe He Won't Find Out What I Know

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Patrick

            I waited at Pete's house that night when he went to drop Ashley off. Bronx was asleep again, after waking up to play with Joe for a while before he left. It was getting late now, but I had offered to stay and watch Bronx while Pete was gone, because I wanted to talk to him alone when he got back.

            It would be an understatement to say I was concerned about his sister. There was no way to describe the sick feeling I had in the pit of my stomach when I saw those bruises on her. Last week, when I had noticed her leg, I was a little perturbed by the way she had answered, like I knew she was lying, but I didn't know why. The one on her arm, however, was just too coincidental. There was no way she could lie to me, and she knew it, but she tried anyways. And that was what scared me the most; That she was willing and able to hide it from everyone. Something was wrong, and I was going to find out what it was.

            Pete walked back in the door about a half hour later, looking tired. He smiled at me and fell beside me on the couch. "Thanks for watching Bronx, Patrick," he mumbled, yawning. I almost felt bad having to talk to him, but it was serious.

            "No problem, Pete. Can I, uh...talk to you for a minute?"

            Pete looked over at me with concern. "What's up?"

            I sighed and tried to find the right words as I turned to face him fully. "Have you...you know, noticed anything different about Ash lately?"

            Pete sat up, looking at me curiously. "Yeah, actually. I was talking to Joe about it earlier. Why?"

            "Well, she...I noticed more bruises on her today."

            Pete thought for a moment, still staring at me. "On her arm?" He asked, most likely remembering what happened when he was messing around with her.

            "Both of her arms," I told him. "It looked like someone had grabbed her."

            He paused, letting it sink in. I watched his fists clench, and he stood up, pacing. "It's Josh, isn't it?" He asked, as if I knew.

            "I don't know, Pete. I think it is, but she wouldn't tell me."

            "Son of a bitch," Pete mumbled, "I'll kill him. Patrick, I'll kill him if he lays a hand on my sister." He started to make for the door, and I jumped up, getting in front of him and pushing him back. He glared at me, but I held my hands up innocently.

            "Storming over there now isn't going to help anything, Pete," I told him. "Maybe we should just try to talk to her." He stared at me for a minute, obviously worked up, but he eventually nodded, knowing I was right. "If you want," I offered, "I'll talk to her tomorrow."

            Pete nodded. "You probably should. I'll just get upset if I do it, and I don't want to yell at her." I nodded, gently guiding Pete back to the couch.

            "Don't do anything stupid, okay?" I asked, even though he rolled his eyes at me. "I'll call her in the morning and see if she wants to come down to the studio with us. I'll talk to her there." Pete nodded and we shared our goodbyes for the night. I walked out to my car, hesitating as I remembered how scared she looked when I found her out here earlier. I remembered the way she flinched when I snapped at her. My hands gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. I wasn't going to let anyone treat my best friend that way.

Ashley

            Before I went to bed, I was standing in the bathroom, holding a wet washcloth to my face. Josh had hit me harder than usual tonight, and had opened a thin cut, right across my left cheekbone. He said it was because I went over Pete's specifically to be with Patrick. He said I refused to sleep with him tonight because I was too busy fucking Patrick. I had started crying when he said things about Patrick, more than I cried whenever he said the same things about me. I don't know why, but I took insults toward Patrick more personally. I guess I cared about him too much.

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