Adolescent

5.

It'd been hours, and I'd cried myself into near dehydration. I'd moved once - to the mini fridge on the other side of my room to grab a water bottle.

Knocks pounded on my door.

"Roxanna? Open up!"

My brain didn't even process whose voice it was, or even the gender of it. My face stayed pressed into my knees and I didn't respond.

The door jiggled. Stopped. Jiggled some more. Opened with a slight whine. Closed. Footsteps sauntered over to my bed. Someone sat. A hand stroked my hair, making me jump and the hand jerk back.

"Everyone's looking for you. You scared us," It was Sam. I didn't say anything. The way his voice sounded crushed me - relieved and scared and caring and almost angry all at the same time. "Ro, look at me. Please. Do something so I know I won't have to take you back to Richmond. Please."

I slowly unwrapped my arms from around my bent legs and reached for him and he took both my hands. I lifted my head to look at him, my eyes landing on his, the look in them making me look away. Sam sucked in a breath, eyes going from my bruised mouth to my bruised neck and back; back and forth, back and forth, eyes getting wider and wider.

"Nick," Sam's voice was a menacing growl. His hands tightened their grip around mine. I whimpered, tears beginning to slide their way down my cheeks again, then clenched my jaw painfully. He spoke after a few moments, softer and kinder, not the growl from before, "Tell me everything. Starting with your aunt."

I shook my head. He wasn't going to commit murder, like he sounded almost ready to.

"Roxanna."

"No."

"Roxanna."

The way he said my name obliterated my plans not to tell him. The story spilled from my lips - unstoppable. I cried the whole time while telling him every minute little detail. Luckily it didn't show in my voice. Only the hoarseness of having my voice box momentarily crushed was heard. Sam listened intently, not interrupting, only clenching his jaw and fists at times, then letting them go slack.

"I'm going to kill that bastard." Sam growled. He stood and turned for my door, thrusting it open and stalking out of my room and down my hall, out the front door, me chasing him in short-sleeves, unsightly scars in full view.

"Sam!" I yelled after him, the vibrations of my voice hurting my injured throat. "It isn't worth it."

"It isn't worth it?!" he demanded. "It isn't fucking worth it?! Have you lost your mind?! He fucking deserves getting his ass kicked!"

"This isn't your fight!" I screamed at him. "It's between Nick and me. I'm not going to let you get yourself hurt or arrested or some shit like that because you were trying to protect me!"

"Well you obviously can't fucking do it yourself, Roxanna!" Sam roared, stomping off toward Nick's.

I yelled his name, stopping him again. "Sam!"

He whirled on me. "What?"

"What the fuck did I just tell you? Don't go after him. This isn't your responsibility!" I said. Sam bore down on me, looking pissed, until my chest was touching his stomach. I didn't move at all, knowing Sam wouldn't hurt me to save his own life.

"Isn't my responsibility? Why won't you just let me teach that asshole a lesson?" he demanded.

"Why are you so damn hell-bent on protecting me from everything?" I countered. "Huh?"