Two Wrongs Dont Make A Right

Chapter Sixteen : What Can I Say She Likes My Creamy Filling

ALEC'S P.O.V.

Have you ever been in one of those moments where all of a sudden you're so pissed off that you just punch a hole through a fucking wall?

Well, I'm past that stage.

Everything going on right now distantly pierces through the haze in my mind, making me realize that my hands are violently shaking, I can't take my eyes off my dildo of a brother and the blonde little beauty under him.

Most of all though, I didn't realize I was walking towards them until my right fist swung out, slamming straight into his jaw with enough force to break it.

I know, a great welcoming gift.

I gotta admit though, whatever blood is coursing through my veins must be running through his too, because he just finishes off his climax with a moan of pleasure and a groan of pain before his eyes roll back into his head and he hits the pillow.

Immediately, my eyes are on the small girl cowering away from his fallen body, although he's still, and this even makes me sick to say it, pretty fucking deep inside her.

My hands dig into his collarbone, and I have to fight myself to not tear his fucking head off.

Suddenly, a small warm hand on my arm breaks through my anger filled mind.

Blake has pulled herself away from Alec, successfully leaving her naked, bruised and her eyes shimmering with tears.

It makes me feel like someone took a fucking sledgehammer to my gut.

No girl, ever, deserves to be treated like that. I can't believe I let this happen to her. Raped twice in what, 3 days?

She's staring at me, her wide grey eyes beginning to let the tears spill down her cheeks, long white-blonde hair tumbling down her back.

I can't even think right now about her being naked, my eyes only focusing on the bruises that have already turned black and purple flowering all over her body.

I twist quickly, remembering I'm in my own room, and grab a black t-shirt.

Wordlessly, I hand it to her. Her eyes are wide and begging for me to say something to her but I can't. Not only am I ready to kill my own brother, but also my father and Laurel are adding to the list. With Blake looking like she does now, I can only muster up enough anger to not speak. But what the fuck was that girl thinking?

She silently puts on the shirt, eyes downcast and red. They're shot to hell and I can't help but guess at the amount of alcohol she's drank tonight. A twinge in my gut reminds me that I'm the reason she did that, because she saw me leaving with the slut, who overall, wasn't all she bragged to be.

Blake tried to get up, only to stumble and fall back onto the bed. So, she was still hammered.

Her eyes closed and she curled into a ball. I watched a shiver pass through her and then she opened her eyes, lips forming a slight smile. So the alcohol had taken over.

It made sense, seeing as she'd probably drank enough to kill a small elephant.

She started to get to her feet, only to keep stumbling. This time though, my hand wrapped around her waist as lightly as possible as I lifted her up.

She threw another drunken smile my way.

The walk downstairs was, well, excruciating.

Blake's hands wandered all over my chest and abdomen, and I practically had to drag her down the stairs.

I slumped her down onto the couch, where she curled up against a blanket. I clicked on the tv and then left for the kitchen.

A few minutes later, I was settled down with a half bottle of whiskey and my thoughts.