"You want to what?!" "I want to kill my grandpa, put his body in a warehouse, call the cops, lock them inside, and blow up the building," I said simply, taking a swig out of my Pepsi. Danielle just kept staring at me.
"What?" "I just can't believe your brain was able to come up with something like that. It's actually a good plan." "Is that an actual compliment?" "Maybe." "Better not be. I've got a girlfriend." "Shut up." "I'd rather not." She glared at me as the waiter came by with our food.
"Here you guys are, anything else I can get for you?" he asked, looking directly at Danielle, who brushed her hair off her shoulder and ignored him. "Nah, we're good, thanks," I said, pulling out my phone and opening a text to Julia. "Let me know." He flashed another grin in Danielle's direction, and she just kept ignoring, picking at her hot pink nail polish.
"At least throw the poor guy a bone," I said, swiping my thumbs across the keyboard of my phone. "No. I have absolutely no interest in some air head football player." "I was a football player. Best quarter back that dang high school ever saw." "And now look at you; a druggie who's partially on the run from the law, planning to kill the only relative willing to take him in."
My hand clenched into a fist around my phone, my teeth grinding together. "You don't even know half of that story, so shut it," I snarled, trying to loosen my fingers and not snap my phone in half. "Really? Please do tell why you're trying to murder the only person willing to put up with you, the only person besides your girlfriend that might still care about you."
My control broke. I grabbed her arm, dragging her back to the bathrooms and shoving the door open. She ripped her arm out of my grasp as I practically threw her into the guys' bathroom and locked the door.
"What are you doing?" she hissed angrily, rubbing the red marks on her arm. I ripped through the buttons on my red plaid shirt and showed her the purple, black, and green bruises encircling my ribs and covering my chest. I moved my hair off my forehead and showed her the marks there; I ripped the leg of my jeans up my leg and showed her the distorted bone and thick black bruises.
"That is why I'm going to kill him," I snarled. "Is that enough evidence for you?" Without waiting for an answer, I re-buttoned my shirt and shook my jeans back in their place, flipping my hair back over my forehead. I walked out and sat back down at the table, leaving her stunned.
The waiter came back a minute later, looking disappointed when he didn't see Danielle sitting at the table. "Can I get the check?" I asked, rubbing my throbbing knee. He nodded and walked off.
By the time Danielle came back, I had paid and was standing up to leave.
"I'll see you tomorrow at the warehouse so we can set up," I said, walking out without looking at her once. I didn't need to. I was going to put my plan into action no matter what. I was sick of the abuse.
.............
"Wait, Jase, wait." "What?" I groaned, rolling onto my back and staring at my dull white ceiling. This was about the fifth time she'd stopped me. "I just wanted to ask you something, geez." "Yes, I have condoms, Jules," I said, still looking at my ceiling. "Do you want me to put one on?"
"That's not what I was going to ask you." "Okay, then shoot." "Why do you keep wincing when I try to take off your shirt?" The blood drained from my face, and I swallowed hard.
"Uh, I don't?" I said, giving her a half smile. She rolled her eyes and lifted up the hem of my shirt; the fabric bumped up against my ribs and I winced without thinking. "Crap," I mumbled. "I have a, uh, hernia." She giggled. "You don't even know what that is." "So? Doesn't mean I can't have one."
"Come on, Jase." She lightly traced the elastic of my boxers, poking out above my jeans, and bit her lower lip. "Just tell me." Aw, crap, now I was done for. She was using that whiny, seductive voice she knew I couldn't handle and just....crap crap and more crap.
"How about we do some stuff and I'll tell you?" I bargained, feeling my erection throb as she snapped the elastic against my skin. She giggled and leaned down to kiss me, putting her legs on either side of my waist and rubbing against me; I moaned and rocked her hips.
"Sure," she said, kissing down my neck. "Fine by me." "You mind being in control?" I asked, lifting my hips as she unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down my legs. She shook her head, pulling my shirt off before I had time to stop her..... what sounded like a small scream issued from between her lips as her eyes widened, staring at my midsection.
I threw my head back against the pillows and flat out cussed for a good thirty seconds. I was seriously hoping that wouldn't happen. "Wh-what did you do?!" she asked, her eyes flickering up to meet mine. "Uh...I fell...down the stairs," I mumbled, unable to meet her gaze.
She was silent for a second before gently touching my bruised stomach. "Jase, does your....does your grandpa...beat....you?" I stared at her, unable to figure out how she made that connection. "I said I fell down the stairs," I mumbled. She laughed. "Sure you did, Jase. You can tell me, it's fine."
She rubbed her cheek against the shoulder of her shirt, wiping make up against the white fabric of her shirt...revealing a green and purple bruise. My eyes popped open, along with my mouth. "What happened?" I asked, anger tinting my voice. I reached up and gently touched the bruise, ready to kill who ever laid hands on my girl.
"Same as you, Jase. I ‘fell down the stairs.'"
