I've Got You, Love

.02

Damian above ^^^

I walk into class just as the bell rings and sit at an empty seat near the back.

"Goooood morning, class!" chirps my calculus teacher. She claps her hands enthusiastically and asks everyone to turn in last night's homework. Her eyes catch mine when I don't get out of my seat like everyone else, spark with realization. She smiles warmly at me. "Hi, nice to meet you, Raine," she mouths, acknowledging that I don't want attention. I like her.

The day passes in a blur. When it's lunch time, I shove my books in my locker and start to walk outside. And then I'm sprawled on the floor in pain.

Shaking slightly, I look up to see a tall muscular guy smirking down at me. "So you're the new girl," he drawls. 

I get up, dust off my jeans, and nod curtly at him. When I turn to walk away, he catches my arm with a bruising grip and forces me to face him. "What's the rush, nerd? I want to talk to you." With another smirk, he shoves me against the lockers. Pain shoots through my shoulder as I look down in submission.

"That's it, darling." He kicks my shin, making me flinch back, and pins me back against the wall. Roughly, his hands drift under my shirt, slide over my bare skin, make me shiver in disgust and whimper. "Such an attention whore," he scoffs, his hands roaming higher.

Then I hear another voice.  

"Get the fuck off of her," the voice says quietly, dangerously.

In seconds, the guy who shoved me is curled on the floor with a bruised jaw and a cut lip, and my mysterious savior is kicking him in the ribs.

I hear a crack and wince, memories surfacing.

"It's your fucking fault, bitch!" He punches my face, sending me hard into the wall. "You made her leave me! We were fine until you started being a fucking brat!" Another punch. He undoes his belt and holds it up with a grin.

"Look at your fat ass! You kept eating too much and she was stressed about the money. You didn't fucking appreciate her and she overdosed. You're fucking worthless!" His face contorts in anger, and he brings the belt back, slashing my stomach with it. Over and over again. I hear cracks. Cool liquid slides down my pale skin.

Blood, it's blood. And I have to clean it up. I scream, sobbing for him to stop. Fucking begging. He doesn't listen.

"Shhhh, you're with me, love. That son of a bitch is gone." I feel hands on my back, in my hair, and I panic. How does this boy know about him?

Then I realize he's talking about the person who shoved me. 

My eyes carefully flutter open and I see him. Soft, tousled brown hair. Light stubble. Tattoos peeking out of the neckline of his shirt, worn leather jacket. He's gorgeous. 

"How are you feeling?" He smiles gently at me, running his hand down my arm. I notice that I'm on his lap, and he's sitting with his legs outstretched on the floor, leaning back against the lockers.

I look down at my folded hands and mutter, "Fine." Normally, this close contact would scare the hell out of me, but I find myself relaxing under his touch. I lean into him slightly and feel him chuckle.

Shit! I immediately pull away, shaking. The last time I hugged my dad, he pushed me into a mirror, breaking it and making the pieces pierce my back. I whimper, closing my eyes and trying to forget.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he rushes out. 

I don't know him.

I can't trust him.