My Brother's Girlfriend (jenlisa )

Chapter Seven

Addicted

Jennie's POV

Those eyes. I can see it in his eyes, right now, the pure anger and hatred boiling his blood. I'm standing in a crap of bathroom with rusty mirrors and moldy walls, clinging to a cracked sink, and instead of seeing the supportive girl standing across the room from me, all that congests my vision are ice-cold, twisted blue eyes. The only thing that I can see are his eyes, watching me with disbelief as I confessed everything, telling me I was weak for not being able to keep it to myself, for breaking down like this. Those eyes would be the death of me.

As the words of the most important and controlling events of my life spilled out of my mouth, out there in the open to be seen by anyone, I fell back into those memories. I relived them as I told Lisa everything. I felt his lips brush against mine for the very first time, the way his hands gently held me in his arms. I could feel his breath flowing down my neck as he came up from behind me when he picked me up from July's house, the place I had Matt take me, when really Rick was planned to pick me up. July covered for me. The pain and betrayal when I found out what he'd done rose up in me like vomit. The cold, overwhelmingly chilled sensation filling my chest and taking over as his hands curled around my neck, first a gentle grip, as if testing himself on how far he wanted to go, and then ever so slowly, deliberately squeezing harder and harder until my face bulged with the blood being cut off from my brain. I felt him forcing the life out of me. For the very first time, I broke down all of those restraints and anything holding it all back, and I felt it. I felt everything.

I hated myself right then, nearly reaching the eminent level of hatred I aimed at the person that annihilated and shattered my organized mental state and made me afraid of turning around any corner. It was one thing to open up for the first time to a girl I barely knew and made my stomach do flip-flops when I saw her, as if she were actually important to me, but I was literally sobbing in her arms like a big baby. Damn, I really needed to get control of myself. I doubt this is even the least bit attractive. Not that it would matter. 'Cause I don't need to look good for her. I don't want to.

I really have to get over all this lying.

I can't say I know what I snarled at her, but I said something pretty hurtful to Lisa, pushing myself off of her again. I wiped my wet face with my forearm, trying to control my breathing. I forced my eyes away from the blind hurt on Lisa's face. What'd I do, call her a bitch?

Beside the sinks, was a cheap wooden bench, that looked like it couldn't hold my weight, but I sat on it anyway. It groaned lightly, but stayed sturdy.

"I'm sorry," I said, finally looking at her. Her once pained look was now a calmer one.  As if she was relieved, I guess. Even though there was still plenty of room, I moved over anyway, gesturing for her to sit beside me. Hesitant at first, she slid in beside me. I was a little glad she wasn't giving me as much space as before, and now sat so close our legs were touching.

"What's his last name?" she said, her voice dry.

I turned to look at her, and it was as if she were having the biggest mood swings of her life. Just a second ago she'd been at ease and filled with relief, and now her eyes were shooting darts, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pointing downward in a serious frown. How could she all of a sudden be so infuriated?

"What?"

"What is his last name?" she echoed, more forcefully this time.

It hit me, just then, how much what I told her about Rick pissed her off. She actually. . . cared about me and the idea of Rick throwing me up against a wall in his own house and strangling me made her skin crawl.