Deadly In Love (A JB fanfic)

Chapter 48

(Christie's pov)
Perfect. Now, the bitch Justin fucked last night is here. Angry and hurt, I shake my head, holding back more tears. This is his problem not mine. I don't even wanna be here.
"Oh, excuse me. What the fuck are you doing?" the girl  glares at Justin. Justin gives me an apologetic look, but I just glare back. He sighs, then shuts the door after he stepsister out. I guess he went to talk to her. Probably tell her he loves her, but he really doesn't. I heard yelling, and took it as a cue to start crying. Fuck all of this. My life is worse then it was before. It's all Justin's fault. I'm not gonna try to work things out. It's not worth it. He doesn't love me, and that'll kill me inside forever. That's why I'm gonna do it now. Let's see if Justin cares if I die. He won't. He'll just move on to the next unlucky girl. I try to calm down, but my heart hurts so much.

After about 5 more minutes, the door swings to reveal an angry yet apologetic Justin. Not wanting anything to do with him, I turn away. "She's gone now," he mutters softly. "I don't care," I grumble irritably. "Baby, you know I love you. Why would you say that I don't?" He still doesn't get it. He still doesn't know how bad this hurts me. He can't erase it.
"You didn't have to get that drunk! If you didn't, then none of this would have happened! What did she have that I didn't?! You didn't have to do it Justin!" I yell, trying not to start crying again. "Christie that's not—"
"And you know what my favorite part is? The fact that you never will really loved me in the first place." Failing miserably, I break into sobs. I unzip my bag and reach my hand inside. "Christie, stop saying that. I love you. I love you so much that—"
"And you made me love myself. But I guess that was all fake. Now, I'm back to where I started..." I pull out the bottle of pills in my bag and start to loosen the cap. Justin's eyes widen, and he lunges toward me. "Christie no!" I move it out of his aim, then keep trying to open it.
"Stop Justin stop!" I scream violently as he pushes me against the wall. "No Christie. I won't let you!" Justin prevents me from opening the bottle and tries to take it from me. "Get away from me!" I squirm, trying to get free from his hold; then I duck underneath him, and run into the other room. The bottle finally opens, and I'm in such a rush that the pills scatter all over the floor. "Christie stop!" Justin comes after me. I kneel on the floor, but Justin lifts me off the ground, grabbing my waist. The cuts sting badly from his grip, so I accidentally yelp in paint "Ow! Let me go Justin!" I shout, pounding on his arms, which clasp around my waist. Once he senses my pain, he instantly releases me, and I crawl back to the pills.
"Baby please don't!" I hear him come near me, and carefully pushes me on the floor, pinning me against it. I wince from the pain in my wrists, then start to cry uncontrollably. His eyes plead me to break away from my suicidal intentions.
"Stop baby, please," he stares desperately at me, with his voice breaking up. Calming down, I stop struggling; then Justin sits me up and holds me close. We both pant, and I keep crying and hiccuping in his shoulder. Justin embraces me gently in his arms as I shake from fear and exhaustion. I cry harder in his chest, so he starts to hum the song 'Be Alright' (pretend that Justin didn't make that song) in my ear. The humming turns into a soft singing, which makes me calm down. His voice is so beautiful. Once he finishes, he lifts me up and brings me to his bed.
"I'm so sorry Christie," he whispers in my ear, and I believe him. He touches my waist, and I wince again, which causes his eyes brows to furrow; then he sighs as if he knows what I've done.
"No baby. Please tell me you didn't, Christie," he sounds even more hurt, and starts to lift my sweater. With fear and shame, I pull it back down.
"Christie, how bad is it?" he looks nervous, with his hands tended up. "It's bad Justin." My voice falters, but he continues lifting off my sweater. Giving up, I shamefully allow him. His eyes widen once he sees the damage done; then he looks away. "No baby no no. Stop doing this to yourself," he holds me close, trying not to hurt me.
"I'm sorry Justin. It's just..."
I can't stand the look on his face when he takes another glance at me. "No, it's my fault," he finishes my sentence guiltily. "No Justin, it's not your fault." "Stop arguing for once. We both know it's my fault," Justin wipes my tears away. "Shit, baby, does it hurt?" he takes a closer look at the damage. I nod, then suck in a deep breath to ease the pain in my stomach from the cuts.
"God damn Christie. Let me help you," Justin steps away from the bed.
(Justin's pov)
This is all my fault. My poor baby did this because of me. How do I make her stop? What can I do to help her? I step into my bathroom, and I see something that makes my stomach drop. There's a towel with red stained all over it. Right next it lies a razor. I sigh dramatically, then kneel down to pick it up. I toss both the towel and razor in the trash, then open the cabinet to get some bandages, a few cotton balls, and a little rubbing alcohol to help her heal faster.

Christie's still lying on my bed, shirtless, and curled up. I set the stuff on the bed.
"I'll be right back baby," I walk into the other room, where that violent scene went down. The pills still lie scattered on the floor, so I put them back in the bottle.
'You made her do this!' the voices in my head convince me that this is all my fault. "Shut the hell up," I mutter to myself. I don't know what I would've done if she killed herself. I probably would've went too. She's my life now, and I won't let her go. I can't. After all the pills are back inside the bottle, I hide it in the very back of the top shelf; then I gather an ice pack, a water bottle, and a bag of crackers. Za and Khalil said she hadn't eaten at all. I reenter my room to see her exactly the same as she was 5 minutes ago, except with her eyes closed.
"Hey baby," I gently hold her cold hand, making her eyes open. She gives me a weak smile, but I still can't stand the sight of all the cuts on her body. "Hey." Her voice is hoarse and sad, from all the crying of course. It makes my heart ache. "I'm just gonna help you babe. Just relax, ok?" I gingerly brush away the hair in front of her eyes. "Ok," she sounds relaxed, but her eyes watch my every move. "By the way, how did you get this?"
I lean toward the bruise and cut on the side of her face while I carefully press the ice pack against it.
"Oh, this guy—" "Woah, wait, this guy? Christie, what guy?" I cut her off immediately, handing her all my attention. "You were drunk Justin, and he tried to make me go with him. I tried to get away, but he hit me, and did this," she motions to a bruise around her left wrist. "Fucking shit. Am I just fucking everything up?" I put my head in my hands, too overwhelmed with guilt to concentrate. "No, Justin it's ok. Don't be mad at yourself," she turns her head to meet my eyes. "How can I not? Look what I fucking did to you," I mutter, motioning to her cuts and bruises. "They'll heal," she states quieter. "That doesn't change the fact that I made you do this." "But I regret it" she argues, and I can't add on to that.
"...Here let me just help you"
I change the subject, and reach for the alcohol and cotton balls. After I pour a little rubbing alcohol on one, I hold her wrist and gently clean her cuts. She hisses a little and winces, which makes me flinch a little.
"Sorry baby," I continue to gently clean cut after cut as she continues to wince from time to time.
After I finish, I bandage her wrists; then I put her sweater back on, and hug her despondently. "I'm sorry Justin," Christie whispers against my shoulder. "For what babe?" I release her from my arms to cup her face in my hands. "For not listening to you," she speaks louder yet softer. "Oh, don't worry about it baby. Just don't do it anymore, please." It comes out like a beg more than an order. I just don't think I can watch her destroy herself in front of me. It's too much.
"I won't," she looks at the floor, which is a pretty strong sign that she's not completely sure, but we've done enough arguing already. It's better to move on. "Here, you should eat something," I hand her the water and crackers, so she takes them and eats two crackers. I hate that, so so much. I don't tell her, because she already feels bad about the cutting. I don't want to shame her for not eating as much as I want her to.
While she eats, I change into nothing but a pair of black boxers. It's now 10pm, and I have no idea if Khalil and Za came back or not. I don't really want to find out tonight. I'd rather be here for Christie, so I gently embrace her in my arms as I pull the covers over us. Her body is cold and delicate. Unlike the other girl. I don't even know how I ended up messing with her the other night, nor how she tracked me down. That fucking bitch hates me. Like I care. Apparently she works as an undercover cop, and she's trying to kill me because, well, I'm a criminal. In my opinion, she's not doing her job correctly. If I'm right, then cops are supposed to arrest people, not kill them. I can't believe it! Some bitch thinks she can scare me by using her kiss-ass job. She can't kill me. I'll kill her first, if she even lays a hand on me. So that adds another problem to my list. At least Rico isn't fucking with us anymore. Neither is the drug dealer that we stole drugs from. But I know they're waiting. Waiting for the right time to come and fuck up our lives even more. That's why I'm keeping Christie by my side until this is over. It could take years though. I just can't let her find out about how much danger we're in.

(A/N: Guess what?...Autumn is here! I'm so happy it's that time of year🍂🍁 What's your favorite thing about Autumn? Btw next post is on Monday/Tuesday)