Teacher and the Thief

Chapter 7

An hour passed before I realized how I was hurting myself. Neither the blood or the long lines running down my arm phased me anymore. The blood on my switchblade covered it entirely. The only pain I felt was when I heard Jack's voice in my head, but it's gone now.

I was actually calming down… until I jumped at the doorbell ringing. I wrapped the knife in a tissue and threw it under my bed as I heard somebody running up the stairs. I stood up and locked the door quickly before the person entered, and then clutched my hands around my arms.

"Belle, open the door." Alex demanded from the other side, and I felt the blood drip to my hands.

"No." I whispered weakly before he started hitting the door.

"Belle, I swear to God, I will break down this door if you don't open it in three seconds." He threatened lowly, so I tried to find something that the blood wouldn't bleed through, but I had nothing that would do that. "Your parents left for dinner, so they're not here."

"Who opened the door for you then?" I asked, but I was more focused on why they left their obviously upset and cutting daughter at home to go have dinner. "Okay." I replied as I unlocked the door, and I stepped away right before it flung open, and I wrapped my arms behind me as a last resort.

"Belle, are you cutting yourself again?" He asked lowly, and I shook my head slightly as I backed away. "Let me see your arms."

"I'd rather you not…" I whimpered as he grabbed my upper arm and dragged me towards him, and then holding my wrist so my arm was vertical, and it dripped down my arm.

"Belle…" He whispered, touching the cut, making me flinch at the pain. "You can't do this to yourself anymore."

"What am I supposed to do, Alex?" I snapped, jerking my arm away. "It's my fault that the love of my life is gone!"

"It's been two years." He replied and wrapped his arms around me, and the only thing I could do was cry. "I know it's hard." He stated softly. "We all do."

"I miss him so much." I cried into his shoulder before wrapping my bloody arms around his back. My arms hurt like hell, but it had nothing on my heart.

"We all do." He breathed before letting go of me. "Oh, thanks for getting my shirt dirty." He scoffed, trying to be funny as he slipped it off over his head, and he took my hand before leading me to the bathroom. "We'll get you cleaned up so you don't look like a total mess, okay?"

"Why does it matter…" I choked out as his hand lifted to my face and wiped the tears away.

"Because if you keep hurting yourself, you'll never get back out in the field. You'll be in the medical room all the time, and you know nobody wants that. Besides, your own team is worried about you." He replied, turning on the sink and getting a washcloth, rubbing my arms with the cold water. "And not everyone can be the top female spy in California."

"It doesn't matter if I can't get out onto the damn field." I muttered as he knelt down in front of me. "Do you need one of my Dad's shirts or something?" I asked because he was shirtless, not that he exactly looked that bad…

"Where's the blade?" He asked, completely ignoring my question.

"No." I countered, and he glared at me.

"I'm not taking no for an answer." He said lowly, grabbing my wrist and jerking me back when I tried to get away.

"Ow!" I screeched, jerking my arm away.

"Well, stop cutting yourself and I won't have to do that." And with that, he wrapped bandages around my arms and dragged me back to my room. "Where is it?"