Rules Are Just A Suggestion {Teacher Love Story}

Rules Are Just A Suggestion Chp. 25

     "I'll see ya later, Jordyn!" I yelled as her mom drove her away from my house.

     A smile appeared on my face as I noticed Nick's car was missing from the driveway. It's not that I don't like him; it’s just that my mom has been gone for three days out of the five day meeting and he hasn't left the house once. I like to have the house to myself, so if I feel like crying I don't have to worry whether or not anyone can hear me.

     I put my house key back into my front pocket as I walked into the dark living room. The only source of light, appeared in through the hallway window, radiating off of the moon. I made my way into the kitchen, flipped the light switch on, and grabbed a can of Tropicana Pink Lemonade. Before I got to close the refrigerator door, I heard a car pull into the driveway.

     Rolling my eyes, I went to my mom's room and got on her laptop. Signing onto Facebook, the door opened. "What are you doing in my room?!" Nick's drunken voice echoed through the pitch black bedroom. I looked up just as he turned the light switch on. After my eyes adjusted to the brightness, Nick was standing by the side of the bed that I was sitting on. His hands were placed on both sides of my body. The laptop made a loud thud as it collided with the ground.

     My eyes widened as his face was just centimeters away from mine. "N-Nick, what are you doing?"

     "Trying to teach you a lesson about privacy, it seems your mother never bothered to." His right hand rose high into the air and smacked into my cheek.

     Ignoring the tears in my eyes, I quickly rolled off the bed and ran out of the room, grabbing my cell phone on the way.

     I was almost to the stairs, when I was tackled to the ground, my phone flying out of my hand and down to the bottom of the steps. Oh crap.

     Nick put both of his hands on my back and roughly pushed himself back up. I was about to continue running to the stairs, but a foot kicked me onto my back. I held my side as I screamed in pain, the fact that Nick had not taken off his steel toed boots worsen the brutal kicks even more. The kicks didn't stop, however. I huddled into the fetal position and tried to block some of the blows. Apparently, this made him even madder. He rolled me back onto my back and gave me a couple punches to the stomach and then the face.

     Luck was on my side, because he had to fix his position on me and I took the opportunity to punch him where the sun doesn't shine. As he groaned out in pain, I ran, as fast as I could, outside into the cold. I kept running until it was physically impossible for me to continue running. At the end of the street I saw a Thornton's gas station and walked to it.

     "Can I have the bathroom key?" I asked the clerk at the front.

     She nodded and grabbed a key off the small desk behind her. I smiled a thank you and walked back outside to the bathroom that was on the side. I opened it as I thought about why they had to have you use a key for the bathroom.

     I looked around and saw your average dirty gas station bathroom. It looked like it hadn't been cleaned in over three years. I took some toilet paper and wiped the dusty mirror. I sighed as I took in my appearance. A bruised face was staring back at me. I lifted my shirt to be greeted by the horrific sight of scratches covering my sides and backs. Trying to decipher what was from what, I came to the conclusion that most were from the steel toe boots ramming into me, the rest were from being tackled and his nails digging into my skin. I smoothed my shirt down and sat on the disgusting floor, leaning my head against the door and cried. I cried about everything: Missing New York, what Nick just did, and...

     "Robyn? Are you in there?"

     Mr. Jameson.

     I quickly scrambled to my feet and pulled the door open. I embraced him in a hug as I continued to cry. His arms tightened to comfort me.

     "What happened?" He finally asked.

     I ignored his question. "What are you doing here?"

     "I was coming back from visiting my mom, when I saw you." He held me at arm’s length. "God, Robyn you look awful."

      I hid my face in my hands, letting tears spill over again. I can't believe this was happening to me.

      Mr. Jameson slid an arm around my shoulders. "Come with me."

     He lead me to a black Honda Civic, one that I recognized from when he took me to the tournament, and opened the passenger door for me. He quickly jogged around the front of the car to the driver's side and was in the car within a few seconds.

     "Where are you staying at?" He asked.

     I shook my head feebly, "Nowhere."

     He sat there, staring at me. I avoided his gaze. I was still crying and I felt weak, dirty, and stupid. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he started the car and reversed out of the parking lot. At a stop sign he noticed that I was shivering slightly and put the heat on full blast and took his brown leather jacket.

     "Here," He said handing me the jacket.

     I almost took it, I was freezing, but then I remembered the blood from my scratches. I shook my head vigorously.

     He stared at me. "Robyn, you're shaking. Take the jacket now."

     His voice was so full of authority, I felt like I had no other option. I grabbed the jacket from him and slipped it in on slowly. The inside felt like wool and was still warm from his body heat. I inhaled self-consciously. It smelled amazing.

     About ten minutes later, we reached a brick apartment. He turned off the car and came around to open my door. "Come on."

     I hesitated. Was this a good idea? But then again, what other choice do I have? I swallowed a hard lump in my throat and stepped in. Here goes nothing.