Playing With Fire (Previously Burning The Bad Boy) (UNDER RECONSTRUCTION)

{6} Bad Boy's and Hospitals Don't Mix

I spent the next two and a half hours in an uncomfortable, hard plastic chair inside a hospital room, Damon's heart monitor playing a melancholy song as we waited for his discharge paperwork.

A permanent sneer was etched into his face, occasionally shooting lethal glares in my direction until I shifted in the seat under his dark, warning gaze. There wasn't any part of me that could actually blame him for treating me like crap; I was the reason he had just gotten a second degree burn on his right leg.

What shocked me far more than his cold and distant attitude is no one showed up for him. I had planned on ditching the depressing hospital as soon as his parents or brother showed. After the first hour of shifting in the hospital chair, I came to the saddening realization that no one in his family cared enough to show up. He acted as if it didn't affect him when the nurse came back in with the news that no one had come to sign his release papers. I knew, from experience, that the best way to get through issues at home was to act as if they didn't exist at all.

"Stop looking at me like that." Damon's gravely voice broke through my train of thought and forced me back into reality. My head whipped toward him, causing a sharp pain to shoot through it. I looked his way as I rubbed the back of my neck slowly.

His eyes were heavy, looking as if anchors had been dropped on them and he was ready to pass out at any moment. I hadn't seen them give him any pain meds, but it was possible they had when I had stepped out of the room to talk to the doctor about his condition, how bad it was, and how much I was going to need to pay for the hospital bill.

"Like what?" I eventually forced out, not sure I wanted to hear his snarky answer.

I honestly hadn't even wanted to be in a room with him longer than a couple minutes in the first place. My first and only concern was if he was okay and how much I was going to need to pay so he didn't press charges. I hadn't expected to end up spending most of my night leaning back in a crappy chair that creaked every time I shifted, sounding like it would collapse at any moment.

"Like I'm some abused stray you found in an alley. You can leave, you've caused enough problems tonight."

I rose shakily, avoiding his dark look. "Fine."

His words shouldn't have hurt, considering the fact I had no care about what he thought of me, they should have lingered heavily in the air and stayed, not breaking through the brick walls around me and stomping me even further into the ground.

I knew deep down the reason his words affected me so much was because I had heard them shouted so much in my household on a daily basis for the last two years. Damon's words felt like a knife to the chest for all the wrong reasons. I should be hurt over the fact he was blatantly rejecting my presence, that he wanted me as far from his as possible. I should be that sad little girl at one of his parties that got angry because he wouldn't sleep with her.

"McKenzie." Damon called after me.

"I'm trying to move as fast as I can." I wiped my eyes before any tears could escape them. "My foot fell asleep."

I could hear his heart monitor starting to beep rapidly. "I'm sorry. That was an asshole thing to say."

"Whatever. Let me know if you need new clothes or whatever, I can pull from my college fund." I sniffled, "I'll see you around. I'm sorry for all the accidents that you seem to end up in when I'm around."

"Thank you for staying." the gratefulness in his voice sounded strained. I sent him a quick look over my shoulder and sighed.

"I just wanted to make sure you weren't going to die." I grabbed the handle of the door in my hand and yanked it open. "Don't think it means anything. I'm still not going to back down; I'm getting my diary back."