wrecking ball » bieber

twentytwo

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam asked, placing a hand ontop of mine, concern in his eyes.

I nodded looking down, "Yeah, I mean I'm more shocked than anything."

"He did not strike you or anything did he?"

"No.." I stared at the two finger shaped bruises that had formed on my wrist.

"You should of came and got me last night, I would of helped."

I shook my head, "Help do what? He didn't hurt me, I'm ok."

"I could of made him leave."

"This is his house, he wouldn't have to leave."

"If he is hurting you he should leave though. You don't need that kind of stress with the little one on the way."

"He's not hurting me," I shot, my voice sounding a little meaner than intended.

Sam nodded and removed his hand from mine, "I'm sorry."

I sighed, "Don't be. It's my fault,"

"How?" He asked quizzically.

I shrugged, "My hormones are crazy and I don't mean to snap at you, I really have no right to be upset. It's my fault he was so angry, I expect too much of him."

"Excuse me, but that's bullshit!" Sam furrowed his brows, "You should expect a lot from him he's your husband! You should not be blaming yourself for what he has said and done, or even think it's your fault."

My eyes began to fill with tears, "If it's not my fault then why would he act like that?" I looked down as the tears from my eyes poured out, "Why did he say those things? Why did he put his hands on me? Why did he say those things in front of his daughter?" I sniffled, "Just why?"

Sam wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace, "I don't know.. I wish I did though." He cooed rubbing my back gently.

-

After Sam had went home I decided to take a nap; being as the girls were each at a friends house and wanting to forget the world for a little while it seemed like a good idea.

Until I woke up to a small noise coming from in the kitchen.

I rolled out of bed and walked briskly to the kitchen to see the person I least wanted to see today; Justin.

He was standing in front of the refrigerator picking at a small dish.

"What are you doing here?" I spoke slow and calmly, but all I wanted to do was yell and scream at him to get out; because I did not want to see him right now.

He slowly turned around, "Eating, this is my house, remember." He smirked and tossed the bowl back into the fridge and turned towards me, "Where's Jaycee?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because she's my daughter."

"I don't think she wants to see you after last night, atleast not right now."

He scoffed rolling his eyes, "Of course she wants to see me, she always does. I'm her favorite person."

"I doubt that now." I shook my head, crossing my arms across my chest.

He laughed, "She can't stay mad at me." He moved past the counters until he was face to face with me, "And neither can you," He smirked.

He grabbed my hand and I pulled it back quickly.

"I can, and I will. What you did last night was un called for! You hurt me Justin, and infront of your daughter? What is happening to you?"

He shrugged, "Nothing I'm feeling better than ever actually," He smirked once again, "But could feel better if," he moved closer to me, his hand gripping my hip, "You let me fuck you."