It's Terribly Perfect.

5. It's Terribly Perfect: Damn you, Arin.

I tried to suck in a breath as Luke lifted me from the ground, his hand tightening around my neck. I tried pulling his hand away from me, my throat burning for air. I gave up, my hands falling to my sides as I became dizzy.

I heard a deep grunt before I was dropped to the floor, landing on my ass. I gasped for the needed oxygen, the pain still prominent in my throat. I heard another thud hit the tile. I looked over to see Luke scrambling to get up, his nose gushing out blood. As soon as he was able to stand, Ryan slammed his fist into Luke's gut, recieving a hit to the left eye in return. I heard footsteps hurrying down the stairs as I stared in horror at the blood on Ryan's hand and Luke's face.

"Kasynne?" Tyler practically shouted behind me. He ran over, trying to sit me up, his eyes scanning the marks on my neck. "What the hell?" he whispered. My throat was still raw as I glanced back to the warring boys in my living room. Luke was pinned with his chest against the wall, Ryan bending his arm up against his back. He was going to break it.

"Ryan, stop!" I tried to yell, my words instead coming out in a raspy, strangled voice. He heard though, his eyes flickered at my face, fright sure to be obvious in my expression. He turned back to Luke, ramming his body against the wall once more.

"You ever touch her again and I swear I won't even think twice before snapping every bone in your body. Got it?" he spit through gritted teeth, his cold voice biting through the air. Luke struggled against his hold before he was pushed out of my house, his face landing in the grass of the front yard.

Ryan shut and locked the door before walking over to me and my brother.

"Get her some ice, kid," Ryan directed my brother, his right arm curving around my back. Tyler still looked confused but did what he was told.

I reached up to touch below his eye, a bruise forming below his skin. He grabbed my hand in his, glancing at my neck. "I'm fine," he whispered.

"I'm so sorry." I could barely get a sound out.

"Hey, it's not your fault," he said sternly, his eyebrows pulling together. I looked away from him before he pulled my chin back up. "Do not blame yourself for this, Kayse. It's that asshole's fault, okay?" I nodded my head, staring at the floor as he brought me closer, rubbing cirlcles on my shoulder with his thumb.

Tyler came in the room with two bags of ice, handing one to each of us. Ryan nodded at him as I put the ice pack over my neck.

"It's cold," I complained quietly. Tyler chuckled lightly.

"It's frozen," he said in a voice that reminded me of Kermit the Frog.  I made a face.

I was helped onto the couch, figuring out my ankle was also hurt when I attempted to stand.

"I think my ass is bruised," I groaned as I sat on the couch, my voice still raspy. After being laughed at, Tyler sat on the carpet beside me, my legs lying on Ryan's lap. Tyler looked between the two of us.

"So, what exactly happened?"he questioned. Being in a cranky mood, my answer was a bit more snappy than intended.

"Well while I was slaving over a hot stove and you were sleeping your ass off, the quarterback dick knocked on the door, assumed by the looks of the two of us that we hooked up, and tried to squeeze my head off my shoulders. Caught up yet?"

"I would hardly call making pancakes 'slaving'," Ryan spoke up, an amused smirk spreading across his face, showing his dimples.

"Shut up," I snapped. They both chuckled.

After a few hours, many pain pills, a nap and some ice on my ass and ankle, I was feeling much better. I was speaking regularly again. By the grip Luke had, I was shocked my windpipe or larynx wasn't injured. Better count my blessings I suppose.