Brooklyn Peterson, an twenty-one year old girl, leaves her home town in hopes of escaping an abusive past lover. But when she meets Colton Anderson in a run down bar, he can't take his eyes off her. He's cocky and handsome and will kill those who wi...
Pulling up to Garrett's house, I notice it's fresh paint of baby blue paint. It's adorably perfect with rose bushes of pinks and reds all incased in a white picket fence.
"Lucy, look who I brought" she turns in her bed, her eyes growing wide with glee when she sees me. Garret does downstairs to pay the sitter and I sit by Lucy on her bed, giving her a hug. "Brooklyn! I missed you" she exclaims, squeezing me in a tight hug. "I missed you too" I chuckle back. She looks tired today. More than usual. She has bags under her bright emerald eyes and her once tanned skin has grown ivory and dull. Her ginger locks seem to be thinning out. With the chemo, it's only a matter of time.
She coughs as I release her from the hug. "It's okay sweetie" I whisper, stroking her back. She smiles weakly, before she pulls out a little red riding hood book from under her pillow. She hands it to me and gets comfy in her bed. "Will you read it to me?" Her voice is quite and croaky. "Of course sweetheart. Lay down" once her head hits the pillow, I lay next to her and open the book. She's asleep in minutes.
"She's fast asleep" I tell Garret as I enter the living room. "She looks so weak" I whisper, unable to get the image of her sick out of my mind. "It's the chemo. I don't know how king she has-" he cuts himself off, shoving away the thought. "Don't. Just don't think of then. Focus on now" my hand runs his shoulder, before I leave his house and head on home. Once I'm at my front door, I find Sammy waiting for me.
"Something I can help you with?" I ask cautiously, waking up to him hesitantly. Upon hearing my voice, his head shoots up as he rises to his feet from my porch steps. "Brooklyn, thank god. It's Colton." He rushes. "What about him?" There's a hint of concern in my voice. "He's hurt bad. You need to hurry." Just like that, Sammy speeds off past me. "Well come on! I'll drive" he stops halfway, before he continues heading on to his car, opening the door for me. It's about Colton. I have to see if he's okay.
Once we pull up at Coltons house, I realise, I've never been here before. It's a huge warehouse, and I assume Colton lives in the renovated loft. Sammy yanks the keys out of the car, rummages through them to find the one to unlock the door to the building, before he jets off up the stairs. I follow clumsily behind him. Once we're at the loft, he knocks twice. There's no answer, but then we hear footsteps growing louder and louder.
Colton opens the door with an ice pack wrapped in a kitchen towel to his face. As soon as his eyes find me standing there behind Sammy, they grow with fear and worry. "What's she doing here?" His voice is full of concern. He yanks me into the apartment and locks the door. Before I could even say anything, he's checking the windows. Once he sees no one followed us, he makes his way towards me, lips colliding with mine, taking me by surprise.
The kiss is desperate and needy. Like he's been deprived of me. He drops the towel as his hand cups my face, the other matted in my raven hair. "God I missed you" he mutters in between breaths. When the kiss ends, and he leans back, hands still cupped to my face, I see it. A great big gash across his cheek.
Noticing my sudden shock of his wound, he pulls my hand to his lips, kissing my palm. "I'm okay baby. It looks worse than it is" he whispers, holding my hand to his face. My fingers trace the redness around his cheek and he winces, shutting his eyes in pain, sending shivers down my spine. Tears escape me.
His eyes come up to meet mine when he hears me sniff, "hey now, don't worry baby" he tries to make eye contact, lifting my head with his thumb. I can't bare to see him like this. "Sammy." When Colton says his name, Sammy gets up and leaves us alone, leaving the apartment. "Listen to me. He shouldn't have brought you here. I need you to go-" "Don't you dare tell me to go home. I'm staying here and taking care of your stubborn ass." He chuckles at my sudden outburst. "I missed you" I hear him say as I rise to look for the first aid kit.
We're in his bathroom; he sits on the closed toilet seat as I rummage through bandages and morphine. Of course he has this stuff in his house. A guy like him? Why not. "Who did this?" I turn slightly and look over my shoulder to see him still holding the towel to his face. He doesn't say anything. He just sits there. Looking at the tiled floor, eyes full of regret. I know who did this to him. "Marcus" I scoff. When he hears me say his name, Colton rides from his seat and is beside me. I turn, stuck between him and the sink.
"I hang around the type of men I never want you to meet." He said, thumb running over my trembling lips. "Then why do you stick with them?" I ask tears falling, rolling down my cheek onto his thumb on my lips as he wipes them away. He tilts his head before opening his lips and closing them again. Once I shut my eyes tight to stop further tears from escaping, he opens his mouth and this time, gains the strength to speak. "Because once your stuck to them, they stick to you like a virus. They only let go once their host is dead." I shudder at the realisation. His freedom comes at the price of his head. And that is a thought that hurts worse than the blood smeared across his torn cheek.
This is Colton's aesthetics:
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