Cold Hearted (Jack Gilinsky)

Three

Brooklyn's P.O.V

"Who was that guy who just left your apartment? I thought we had something special, Brooklyn," Jack pouted, sarcastically as he burst through the door to my apartment.

"One, Let's never talk about last night ever again and two, do you know how to knock? Oh and three, didn't I tell you to stop coming over here?" I asked.

"Maybe you should start locking your door," he suggested.

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind," I said, giving a fake smile. "What do you want, anyway, Jack?"

"I want to know who that guy was," he shrugged, sitting next to me on the couch.

"What guy?" I aked, trying to sound clueless.

"He was while, about 6 foot, and had brown hair," Jack said, describing Danny.

"I still don't know who you're talking about."

"I saw him leave your apartment."

"What, do you just stare out your peep hole all day?"

"No. I just happened to get here when he left."

"I'm sure you did. Anyway, it's no one important," I shrugged.

"If it was no big deal why did you try to keep it a secret?" he asked, calling my bluff.

"Fuck me," I muttered under my breath, I didn't know how to get myself out of this one. It would have been easier to explain if I had just started by saying he was another one of my random hook ups.

"Do you have feelings for this guy?" Jack asked.

"Not the kind of feelings you're thinking," I said, telling Jack the truth for once this conversation.

Jack nudged me with his elbow, trying to get me to talk, but instead sending a shooting pain through my body, causing me to let out a small whimper.

"Brooklyn, are you okay?" Jack asked, suddenly concerned.

"Yeah. I'm just sore."

"Sore from what? I haven't seen you work out a day since we've lived here."

I was really bad at this lying thing. "I can work out inside my own apartment. I don't need to go to a gym."

"Whatever you say. But I still know you're lying, about both things," Jack said.

I sighed. Maybe I did need to tell someone. I didn't expect Jack to be much help, but maybe this would make him leave me alone, but then again, maybe he wouldn't leave me alone if I told him. Either option would be perfectly okay with me, other than the fact Jack annoyed the hell out of me.

Jack was still looking at me, but he didn't look like he was waiting for me to explain, he was just starring at me. I brushed it off and turned my body towards him, slowly so I didn't cause any pain throughout my body. I crossed my legs and took a deep breath.

"Do you really want to know? No matter how stupid or fucked up it might be?" I asked.

He nodded, confused.

"It may take a while," I said.

***

I told him everything starting with four years ago when I first met Danny, to when he started hitting me, to the night two years ago, to just a couple days ago. Jack looked at me, processing what I had just told him.

"Brooklyn, you need to tell someone," Jack said.

"I did. I just told you," I said in a duh tone.

"Someone who knows what the hell to do in a situation like this," he clarified.

"I don't think I can. He went to jail for two years, I move across the country, and he still finds me and I have no idea how."

"He's a psychopath, that's how."

"I know that Jack," I felt tears form in my eyes and a lump in my throat. "I"m scarred shirtless, Jack."

"I'm always here," Jack said, wiping away the tears and pulling me into his chest. I wrapped my arms around his body, even though it hurt like hell.

We stayed like that for a few minutes until I had finally calmed down. "Jack, I'm sorry for being a bitch to you these past few months."

"Did Brooklyn Hart just apologize to me?" he asked in a false surprised tone.

"Shut up, I already feel bad enough for letting you see me cry," I said.

"It's fine. I wasn't exactly a saint to you either," he said, chuckling.

"I have to go to work," I told him.

"Okay," Jack said standing up, "Please talk to someone, Brooklyn."

I nodded, we both knew I wasn't going to but I figured it would make him feel better if I said I would. I walked to my room and took off my current outfit, replacing it with a pair of jean shorts and a pink tank top. I looked at myself in the mirror. You couldn't see any of my bruises except one, on my shoulder, which I could easily play off as a minor injury.

***

"Hey girl!" Taryn exclaimed as I got home that night. "Where is your new one night stand?" She sounded genuinely sad that I didn't have a new hook up.

"None tonight. I took the night off," I said.

"Does it hurt to have that many dicks inside of you in a week? I wouldn't know because Tyler wants to wait until marriage," she said, clearly drunk. "But do you want to hear a secret? I don't want to marry Tyler."

"Okay, Taryn. I think you need to lay down," I said, guiding her to her room.

"You're a good friend, you know that? I mean you let random guys who might kill us in our sleep into here, but other than that you're a good friend."

"Thank you." I didn't know if that was a compliment or not but she was drunk so I would just assume it was.

I layed her into her bed, not bothering to change her clothes, and started to walk out. I walked to the living room, making sure to lock the door as Jack had suggested, then walked to my room.

I took off my shorts and didn't bother to put any new pants on. I was way to tired and I just wanted to not think about this anymore.

I was almost asleep when I heard a pounding on the door. I jumped up, pulled on a pair of pants and rand to the door. I looked out the peep hole to see Danny. I held my breath and, against my better judgment, opened the door.

"Who the hell is this?" he asked, holding up his phone which was displaying a picture of a guy from the bar I work at and me. He had tried hitting on my but his pick up lines were terrible, plus I knew better than to flirt with anyone at the moment. How did he even get this picture?

"I don't know. Just a customer from tonight. I don't even know his name," I told him. It was the truth. He never told me his name and I didn't bother to ask.

"I'm going to trust you just this once. But if it happens again, you know what will happen," he threatened.

I don't think he was a psychopath, I think he was a sociopath, he didn't show any emotions other than anger. I'm only 18, I am in no way equipped to deal with something like this. I didn't know what I was going to do. I didn't want to die and if I told Jack he'd probably call the police, which I didn't want either.

"I know what happens," I confirmed. He was either going to beat me senseless or kill me. The latter would be the best option at the moment.

And with that he left.