Chapter 26

It finally happened. About time, if you ask me. But just because it was about time didn't mean I was looking forward to the outcome of this.

It was all over town in the span of a day - which was strange since I've been home for a while with no recognition. As if just now they discovered I was back. But honestly, it shouldn't really be that shocking. Society is fucked up and doesn't know news when they have it. However, I found out there was more to it than that just a little while after I watched the news.

After I saw it on the news, I wasn't sure what to make of it. This wasn't good was aIl I could really think. But I was prepared to face that and have been for a while before. It was only a certain amount of time before this would happen I knew. And now, it was. But when I saw my face on TV and the amount of attention other channels were giving me, I don't think there was a way to prepare mentally for it.

So a few minutes later, when I heard someone pull into my driveway, I nearly took off running towards my room to somehow hide. As if I could and would never need to face this ugly-ass world. I was so sure it was someone that found out I was home and wanted to see me. Thank god that it was Luke that walked through the door.

I sighed, relieved when I rose from my tense state on the couch. "Hey, great day today copper? Because mine is now fucked in the ass," I said casually.

He sighed as well. Coming to stand before me, his pretty eyes radiated sympathy for me. His expression told me he knew what I meant. "Look, I put it off for as long as I could."

Huh? Put what off? "What are you talking about?"

"The police releasing to the public that you have been 'found.' I put it off for as long as I was able to. But money only goes so far in helping...."

"Wait," I said, pausing. I didn't just hear him right. Because if I did, my reaction would be something like this: "You kept me being back a secret from the public? Like nobody knew until now because you paid the police off, to keep it quiet for as long as possible? Hell, can the station even do that?"

He pursed his lips, looking down and away from my eyes. It was clear that he felt bad about this. Over what, I didn't know. He looked back up at me, sadness clouding his eyes. "I'm sorry, Albany. I just wanted to protect you for as long as I could. There is enough drama that already exists. I didn't want us to have to deal with the public too."

"Sorry?" Call me soft all you want - I know I am. But I wanted to wrap my arms around him and hug him to me for that. Obviously, I held back. Instead I shifted from where I stood before him. His expression asked for forgiveness - which was unnecessary. He has done so much already. And now, I find out he's been doing this all along as well. Luke's been stalling with the release of the news that I have been back. By using his money to keep it quiet. For our own benefit. "Why should you be sorry? If it's true, then you saved us from more drama. Better that it happened now rather than before. Of course, the drama with Clare will only end with her death," I joked. "But you already knew that."

He looked stunned. "You're not mad?"

"Uh... nope." I felt the need to thank him but that still wasn't something I was really comfortable with either.

He sighed in relief at me not being upset with him. But that didn't mean we were not relieved of what was about to come. I was on edge all the time. I knew something would happen. Either the press would come knocking at the door or my friends would beat me. I wasn't sure how to feel when I realized it would be the later.

I told Luke it was okay to go back to work. Turns out that when Luke found out it was on the news, he came straight home to make sure I was alright. He wanted to stay and honestly, so did I. But we both knew how much he has already put a strain on work. First, getting me off all charges. Then paying them off. He needed to go back to work and he finally agreed after a long hesitation. When he walked back out to his car, I walked with him, reassuring I would be fine. He would be home in a few hours anyway. I would be fine. I would always be fine.

I watched his car pull away and out of sight before turning around to go back inside. I wasn't sure if someone would come before he came home. How would I deal with it? I obviously couldn't tell the press the truth; they wold make my public harassment ten times worse with headlines like, 'Local Insane Teenager Points Finger at Mother. Is a mental institution next?' Okay yeah, horrible headline but you get what I mean.

As those thoughts ran thorough my head, something happened. I reacted or noticed too late. Just as I was opening the front door back up to get inside, they attacked me.

I gasped loudly when I felt a rough grasp on my arm fall on me; it pulled me back hard. I swung my head around in the middle of them dragging me back off the porch and to the grass. I caught the faces of three people in that fast struggle. My stomach turned but that might also be because they pushed me to the ground in the next second.

"Ah Albany...." I heard my name. The voice was familiar with that face and it made my insides turn. I heard them say more but it was a blur after I heard my name in that hating tone.

"Ugh..." I groaned as I tried getting up. They were going to really beat me now, I knew at that moment. I deserved it. As I tried getting to my feet as fast as I could to run, I was stopped with that hard grasp returning to both my arms. They steadied me as I stood and I was finally able to take in the faces of the people I haven't seen in over a year. They never let me go. I even, at that point, was grunting in effort to break free from their grasp. One was on one side of me, nails digging into my skin, the other was a girl holding my other arm firmly. And the third one was standing right before me.

The man that was standing before me, his smile was ice as was his stare. I breathed hard from trying to break free and also from how his gaze affected me. This was going to bad. I knew it for what I did to them and how little they were able to cooperate just because that's how they were. I planned for at least a black eye and a good amount of blood. That's at the least. Most likely worse because with them, some blood and bruises were always a minimum with usual situations. This wasn't just an everyday beating for them - and yes, they liked to bully people they didn't like around a lot. But I was an exception; I would get a bad one.

Before you start to judge me because they are my old friends, you should all know that I never approved of some of the things they did. Sure, I was mean to some people for the sake of it. I didn't have patients sometimes before when I should have. I even teased little kids before. But I would never participate in physical abuse. Growing up with both verbal and physical abuse aimed at me all the time, I came to not like most people that had normal and nice lives. I always thought that since it wasn't at all fair that I get that abuse and they don't, I should at least level it out a little. Cruel, sure.

Since then, I don't really abuse people for the hell of it. I grew up in the streets. That was a time of change that was very significant for me. I learned to not bother with hurting people's feelings or bother them at all if I wanted to stay out of trouble. This was the first time in a long time that I was getting physical abuse from people (besides Clare).

"Why hello, my darling. I didn't believe Patrick when he said you were back but I see I was wrong. I should hope you remember us," Gage said, standing with slumped shoulders before me. I never liked his light and carefree voice when such darkness was in his eyes. He looked slightly different; he use to have stringy light brown hair that nearly touched his shoulders. Now, it was cut and combed back behind his ears. It made him look a sliver less than trash. His thin face and brown dull eyes bored into me. He was very tall and lean, like I remembered.

I scowled as the the familiar girl and guy on either side of me too. They chuckled. "Unfortunately," I said and couldn't help but push them. It was in my nature, so don't blame me. "How's your leg?" I smirked. The last time I saw him, to get to his particular weed, I had to run away with it from him. I kicked him in the leg to where it was the cause of my successful escape with his weed and out of town.

His smirk dropped and his gaze was more disturbing. "It's fine," he said sourly. He stepped forward more before he was an inch away from me. I should have saw it coming. In the next moment, he swung his hand back and slapped me hard across my face, making my head jerk and lips moan. "How's your face?" he asked in a quiet voice after.

The sting spread through my face and I held back a louder groan. I was steadied with a harder grip on both arms from the others. But I didn't try to fight back yet. He was still scowling, looking straight into my eyes. I needed to remember just how pissed off they were and how provoking them wouldn't help my cause.

"Gage, come on, I want to beat her already!" The girl, my old friend Trish, said. I glanced to her. She didn't look any different either. She still had her big hair; this time it was just a purple Mohawk, the hair of her roots and around her neck jet black. Her nose held a stud and so did her lip. Her brown eyes were surrounded with light blue eye shadow and her full lips were covered in dark red lipstick that was smeared. You will understand the amount of sarcasm I possess when I say she looked beautiful and absolutely professional in a incredibly mature way. She being always really aggressive, went on. "Come on! You said we could beat the shit out of this bitch, Gage!"

Gage smiled. "Oh don't worry Trish, we will all get our turn. But we need to have a little chat."

I snorted. "I know how you guys operate. I'm not as retarded as all 'y'all' brains are puttin' togetherin,'" I said, mocking them as terrible speakers and hillbilly trash. They sounded like it. "You are all full of it with trying to be so fucking dramatic." I need to shut my mouth, shut up... It was hard to though when they are so annoying. I am ashamed to say I was ever friends with them.

"I don't think you realize just how we 'operate' any more," said Mark on my other side. Out of the three of them, he was the smartest if I had to guess. He was the one that I thought about going to when I first went through town for drugs. I'm happy I didn't. He looked like he was the most upset with me. Maybe because he was the one I stole money from and drugs. He looked the same otherwise; brown greasy hair, stronger build, and pale skin. "That's why we are here."

I glanced back to Gage when he cut in to explain. "You fucked up. But we all do. You are lucky that it's only us here." He was right. I was lucky. I ripped off more people than just them. "But we are here to collect for all. Do I need to say more or are you smart enough to know why we are here?"

I think I had it figured out. "You want me to pay everything back to all of you. But what else?"

Gage tightened his lips, cruelty returning to his cold eyes. "You need to know... we're not going to take your bullshit. If you don't pay what we want, you will be worse off than you are going to be in a few minutes."

Great, now I'm dealing with threats. "How much?" I growled.

"15,000 grand," Mark said in a hiss.

My jaw dropped and I felt my stomach do so as well. "Bullshit! I took, at the most, five thousand, and that counts the value in the drugs!"

"Doesn't matter," Gage said. "You will find out later that we aren't the troubled kids we once were. This is a business and you will pay."

What the hell does that mean? Business? Did it really matter though; I wasn't going to pay. Even if I somehow could get the money from Luke, it wasn't just about paying them off. They have been getting their way their whole lives by pushing people around. Sure, I was with them before and took part in some things they did. But I never was able to take what I want for the sake of it. I stole because I would have needed to. I never pushed kids around because I wanted to, I did it because I felt I needed to. I didn't only rip them off because I was desperate. That was the main issue but not the only one. I was mad, upset at them for how they weren't really friends. They thought I was a badass; I was too and it made them look strong with the crazy chick hanging out with them. But after I realized that and saw just how much we disagreed in simple things like respect, I started to despise them. I deserved what was coming, sure. But they didn't deserve my apology and what I took from them after they do it all the time.

"And if I don't pay?"

"You will."

"Really? You know just how rich my mother is. How could I?" They didn't know anything about Luke and his money so they are assuming I don't have much. How were they expecting me to pay if I couldn't?

"If you don't pay in money, you will in blood. That's a promise. And it will be worse than what we are about to do to you."

Before I could say anything else, Trish wasn't willing to wait any longer. She pushed me to the ground and Mark helped her. Gage said something I couldn't make out but they weren't words discouraging her actions.

When I was on the ground, they didn't pause in kicking me. On my side in the grass, trashy Trish landed a hard kick to my gut that took the air right out of me.

"Crazy dumb bitch! Coward! Thought you would never see us again!" My mouth open, trying to gasp, my eyes were wide in shock at how hard that kick was. On instinct, I raised my knees closer to my chest and tried moving my arms to cover but it didn't work. I was kicked and felt a few punches, one hit my eyes and I screamed out in the pain that spread through my face. Through my vision becoming spotty. And the overwhelming sensation of shocks of pain erupting in my body.

"Selfish traitor! Psychotic little bitch!" Mark screamed at me. I felt Mark kick me a few times in the back and I tried hard to get to my feet. But with my already dizzy vision, it didn't work. The most I was able to get to was my knees. But as I was kneeling and they still kicked at my sides, when my vision cleared, I looked up and saw Gage towering over me. He took a few steps back before moving closer in a fast pace. Once realizing what he was doing in that split second, I closed my eyes and tried to flinch away. I wasn't quick enough.

Gage's shoe came into contact with the bottom of my chin when he kicked me. It hurt so bad. I can't express the amount of pain that ripped through my head and neck at that point. My mouth tasted of blood in that same moment. I gasped hard and shrieked when he kicked me in the face like that. It caused me to jerk back and as I screamed in pain, that bloody taste wasn't without it dripping out of my mouth. I fell on my back, my head hitting the grass hard. Like an aftershock effect to that nasty blow to my face.

This was all within a second or twos time. And it was already worse from when Clare starting torturing me in the woods. The kicking continued and as I was laying on the ground, trying to bury my face in the grass, someone pressed the their shoe to the back of my head. Whoever it was didn't put all their weight on it to break my neck. But they put enough weight into it so that my face was fully forced into the ground with no air to spare. My lungs constricted and my whole body was on fire. It nearly felt as bad as when going through withdrawal. But at least then, Luke was with me. I was alone here.

I couldn't ignore what entered my mind at being pressed into the airless Earth. I wonder if Emily felt like this. No air. Slowly losing that ability so natural but so crucial to survival. Did she suffer like this, with no air? Or was there also the struggle to breath with dirt in her mouth as well? I'm sure. This was a terrible feeling right now. I couldn't imagine what she endured before he death.

I bucked from under them and was finally able to roll over and took in deep gasps. But when I did, it brought no relief. The blood stung my wheezy breath and I felt a significant amount of blood start to puddle under me.

After a few more kicks, I wasn't able to make out who said what. But they were all nasty comments I grew use to over the years. I even was able to see them pull knives out before they continued. But as they did, it got to the point that I couldn't distinguish a kick from a cut. It all came through to me just as pain. Finally, they stopped and I was surprised I wasn't unconscious yet. I wish I was through with what happened next. I couldn't see but they knew I could hear them.

"Pay us. And if you don't, you will be seeing us again. If you tell the cops, you know what will happen."

After they left, I stayed there for no more than a minute before I finally blacked out.

***

I was in and out of consciousness for a while. I recall hearing the birds again but a moment later, I was back under. That happened a few times but finally, there was a voice, panicked and approaching.

"Albany! Albany!"

It was getting closer. And I wanted to block it out as I was going back under. Unconsciousness was where I was safe. I even think I did go back under because the next thing I knew, I was in Luke's arms. I don't recall him getting to me or picking me up. But now that I was conscious again, I could feel his arms supporting my back and legs. He was holding me, carrying me I could feel. Being in jean shorts and a peach camisole, I could feel where his arms were touching me. Through the pain, it brought comfort but only on a small level.

I felt myself cough and I groaned at the sting in my throat. I opened my eyes for only a split second and saw he was carrying me up the stairs. His eyes were deep in mine, so much feeling in them. "I'm so sorry," he said quietly.

I couldn't help but close my eyes as I felt his arms tighten. He saved me from the Earth. He saved me. Those thoughts that went through my head at that moment, they didn't make sense and still, I'm not sure why I thought them. My heart ached as Emily slipped in my mind.

He saved me from the Earth. He brought me air. I failed. I never was able to save....

"Emily...." I felt myself say or mouth before I went back under in that minute.

I had a feeling that I was under for at least 15 minutes this time, a little longer than the other times. Because when I woke without the desire to go back under this time, I was settled in a mans arms and I was soaking wet. The more conscious I became, the more aware I was. Of my surroundings and of the pain that was still in me. My head pounded like a motherfucker and my stomach and sides hurt like a bitch every time I took a simple breath. My face pulsed with pain too and I knew I was bruised already.

I heard myself moan and that was really all the sound there was. I heard the sound of water dripping once or twice so far but that was it. It was nice, hearing nothing. I wanted that nothing. To feel or be or see nothing. It would be absolute bliss. I then became aware of a feeling, a few different kinds of brushes on my face. One was that of a damp rag, it felt like. Another was something that contributed to the shocks running up my body; that of a warm breath on my neck. It was nice. A nice relaxing feeling that would go great with that feeling of nothing I desired.

I finally managed to open my eyes and I found that I was inside of Clare and Luke's bathroom. In their Jacuzzi. Looking down slightly, I found that the huge tub was partially filled with water that was tinted a red. I wasn't sure what to make of it. What I also managed to notice was that I was laying on top of a body. It was hard to see his legs under mine in the red water but I could feel his skin under mine. I found use in my hands and managed to move them a few inches to the mass under me. I could feel his stomach and chest pressed against my back from where I was laying in the tub.

"Luke?" I spoke quietly, guessing that this had to be him. I glanced to my side a little to maybe catch a glimpse of him from behind me since his breath was right on my neck and close enough. I started to turn my body around to see him. I caught his eyes observing over me since he was propped up more. But his arms moved to my sides and held me still, back to facing forward.

"Don't move," he said against my neck and by my ear. More aware now, I realaxed back into him and knew my head rested just on his shoulder. "I'm just trying to help, don't worry," he reassured. For why, I wasn't sure. I just wanted to look at him; I wasn't mad that he was here and cleaning me up like this. I realized why he would think so though. I wasn't that kind of a person. But right now, I loved that I was laying over him in his arms and he was helping me. I felt so safe and okay.

He let go of my sides when I said nothing and returned his hand with the rag to the side of my face. I could feel his eyes caress my face where he was cleaning a cut. I couldn't see him well. His chest rose and fell unevenly under me - though he was as calm as he could be it seemed.

I winced slightly when he finished with that cut. I felt him grasp my sides again and he cautiously pushed me down more so that I was laying with my head right on his chest. His chin was just over my head but never made contact. He did so in order to easily clean my shoulder (which I didn't know until then was bleeding too). He moved the straps from my camisole and bra down my arm slightly so he had access. He quietly began dabbing at it and I hissed.

"Sorry," he said before he lowered the rag back into the hot water we were in. It just covered my legs, which I noticed was clear of blood but saw the impacts and bruises on them; many cuts too. When he was done with that, from behind me once more, he moved his hand down to my stomach, the other in the water and rinsing the rag. Looking down at the hands that appeared from behind me, he slowly grasped the hem of my camisole and folded it up my stomach. Until it was only covering my breasts. It was no longer peach but red as well.

Looking down at the bare skin of my stomach, I groaned. Deep bruises laid over me. It looked bad. I'm surprised he didn't take me to the hospital. I'm glad he didn't though. Upon seeing my beat body, I felt him inhale and exhale harder; he froze for a minute before he slowly caressed my stomach with the rag. It wasn't bleeding like the shirt may have hinted at but it was bruised badly.

Though not needed really, he started rubbing my stomach back and forth with the warm damp rag. It felt good. "I'm surprised you didn't take me to the hospital," I said, not liking how little he was saying and knowing how hard this hit him.

"You begged me not to," he said in a neutral voice.

"I did?"

"When I found you and said I'm taking you to the hospital, you nearly had a panic attack. You made me promise you not to and when I did, you were out in second again."

I didn't remember that. But it made sense. No matter how bad I was, I wouldn't go to the hospital. I wasn't going to do that and especially wasn't now; everybody would assume I did this to myself. It would get special attention. I could tell Luke didn't care about that though and he really wanted me to go. But I wouldn't let him.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

He sighed and I felt his hands fall away, dropping the rag in the water. As he did, something happened I wasn't expecting at all. He dipped his head from behind me and rested it on my good shoulder, his nose brushing the back of my shoulder. At the same time, I felt his hands carefully move up my body and tighten around my chest where I wasn't hurt as bad. His head buried in my shoulder from behind me, his hands hugging me to him lightly, he sighed and just stayed that way.

I wasn't sure what to think. Looking down at where his arms were wrapped, on my side and chest, I felt really warm and home and safe. But from what he was doing, you would think he as holding those same thoughts about me.

"I'm so... sorry," he breathed, muffled into the back of my shoulder. His words... I didn't like the affect of them on my heart. His voice was defeated and you could tell that what happened to me really hit him in a soft spot.

"Why are you sorry?" I asked.

"I should have stayed home. I shouldn't have went back to work after stopping by." I was slightly uncomfortable with the embrace he was holding me in. Such a strange aftermath for being beaten. Me laying on top of him in the large tub, he quietly cleaning me up. And now he was hugging me from behind as we were still laying in the tub together. I wasn't sure how to respond to any of this and now his words.

I don't know why, how, or what made me do what I did. But after he said that, I felt my arm raise up by my shoulder and back until my fingers found the top of his head that was resting on my shoulder. I slowly stroked his hair a few times for comfort and as I did, my mind ran in circles. Why is he blaming himself? I was the one that stole and pissed off my friends. As I stroked his hair, I spoke. It was so different and it made me uncomfortable. Like it did when talking with his mother. But it was as if I needed him to hear this, that I had to keep away those thoughts that he shouldn't have.

"It wasn't your fault. It was completely mine. I was the one that pissed them off when I could have avoided it."

I stopped petting his hair as he slightly shifted. He lifted his head from my shoulder and said sadly in my ear, "I'm begging you... please just tell me who did it. Why won't you tell me?"

I felt my eyebrows raise and of course with my luck, that hurt too. I could tell my eye would be swollen soon enough. "What do you mean, you asked who did this to me before?"

"Yes," he sighed. "You wouldn't answer me and said that you couldn't tell me."

I sighed in relief. Hell, I was just glad I wasn't stupid and chatty when I was unconsciously conscious. If I told him who did it, he would go after them and try to arrest them. But if he did that, that would be very bad news for me.

"I'm sorry but I can't tell you."

He sighed again and I realized that he must have asked me to tell him a lot before because he didn't go on pushing for answers. Plus, I think he knew it wasn't a good time when I was hurting like hell. After a moment of silence between us, he broke it and put away that subject with his next words from behind me.

"How sore are you?"

"Why?"

"Because the reason I got in with you was because you were unconscious and wouldn't stay propped up enough for me to clean you properly. So if you sit up now, that would help."

Very slowly, I started to sit up from where I was propped against his chest. I bit my lip in pain but when I was able to raise myself up a few inches, his hands found my sides again and helped me until I was sitting up. And slightly hunched forward too like he wanted. I looked back at him from behind my shoulder and saw he was a good distance behind me. His back was still propped against the side of the tub and now that I was leaning forward a bit, there was enough space. Looking back at him, his damp clothes and wet skin, blood on him from me too, his eyes caught mine. We stared at each other for a long moment. His eyebrows were dipped and eyes looked restless even through they were motionless on mine. I watched his throat move and saw he swallowed but I wasn't sure why.

"Is this good enough?" I asked, facing forward again with how sore my neck was.

"Yes," he said. I felt his fingers graze my back but it didn't hurt as bad. "You are so bloody," he whispered as he carefully lifted the hem of my camisole up to get a better look at my back.

"Which... infliction is it that is specifically causing all the bleeding?"

He lifted the camisole with one hand while his other ran across the skin on my back with the rag. "Well, there was a lot from where you were punched in the nose and the chin," he said, taking a deep breath to continue. "I think that's the majority of it. When I found you, you were on your back and there was a pool of blood all around that you were laying in. That's why there is blood all over you. But it came from you mouth and nose." He shuddered. "It splattered all over you every time you were punched or kicked in the face."

That made sense. It explained the massive sting of blood in my throat and mouth this whole time. "But I was only kicked it the face once. They hit me the other times...."

"You sure about that?"

I wasn't. I was in and out it seemed through the beating. I wasn't able to tell how or what they did to cause the pain. I was only able to know that I hurt when they did it. "No."

He started to dab at another cut on my back. His voice slightly broke when speaking again after a minute. "Plus, when they cut you, that caused a lot too. What made it so much worse was when they cut you then kicked you in the same spot. That... that would cause a lot of bleeding too."

"Luke..."

"What?" He said sharply, stopping.

"You need to calm down."

He sighed, ignoring my words. "Now that you are up, I can do your face more easily and your hair. I just need to get up first," he said. He slowly maneuvered himself out from under me. Sitting with my legs still stretched out before me, he was no longer under me. The water was disturbed more by his movement and when I looked behind me, I saw he was now sitting up without the help of the side. His legs were crossed with much space to spare in this huge tub.

"Can you handle crossing your legs or no? If you can't, that's okay."

I nodded when moving my legs a little. "I can." I seemed fine when it came to moving, besides a little soreness. But that was because my face and head were the worse. Wasn't sure if that was the good part or the bad.

When I crossed my legs, I felt his hand on my arm and he slowly turned me around. I was finally facing him straight on and that seemed to make me even more uncomfortable for some reason. When I was facing him and still, he inched forward more until he was close enough. He reached over towards the faucet but his hand was searching in the water. When I heard a small noise and saw the water slowly go down, I realized he was draining the water. The red water went down and so did the thick air it seemed. Looking at Luke, he was soaked in that bloody water like me. He didn't seem to care though.

After it was drained, he turned the faucet on and refilled the tub just a fraction like he did before, just until the water was above our knees. I knew there must be a shit ton of blood on my face and in my blood soaked bun if he had to do that. It wasn't long until he was at it again. Only this time we were facing each other. I wasn't sure where to look. Because if I looked into his eyes, they would often meet mine and either show me emotion I didn't want to deal with or otherwise it would result into a long and uncontrollable stare between us. I rested my eyes on the water that was slowly turning more red with every time he rinsed the rag before continuing.

With the rag, he carefully was rubbing it over my cheeks and mouth where there was a lot of blood drenched. Before, I didn't even realize it was on my face. I did though with seeing that once clean rag leave my face; the rag which turned a deep red I knew. He pet the cut cautiously along my bloody lip, his breath hard still. That breath now against my face. He was pissed off and upset but he never stopped being gentle with me.

As he tilted my face to the side, I felt the need to make the mood lighter. "When did you find me?"

"A few hours ago," he said with a caring voice.

"So does that mean Clare is home?"

"Yeah, she's home."

"Wouldn't it be awesome if she walked in right now? Daddy and daughter, taking a bath. Nothing unusual going on there."

He moved the rag by my eye, carefully brushing there when I closed it. He didn't react or think it was funny which was fine. "She knows I'm busy with you right now."

I smiled, looking into his eyes with my one. He was focused on clearing the splattered blood from my face and soothing my pain. "Ooh I like the sounds of that!" I said, getting out of the slump that I am currently in and feeling. Seeing a small crack of his lips, I smiled myself.

When he moved to wipe under my chin, I felt a sting shoot up from the contact and it hurt a little. I hissed but had an even more natural reaction - since I am the way I am. "Oh, Oh, Oh! Dad, that hurts so bad!" I said loudly. "I'm so wet!"

He paused in what he was doing. Meeting his eyes, I saw his lips spread wider and he chuckled just slightly. It was gone in a minute but I was happy to see it was there. He shook his head. "You were just beaten and badly. Yet, you act as if nothing happened. You try to make me laugh and you do. But you are hurt, mentally and physically. You don't need to act all tough right now. You can let me be pissed off and upset." He said it with a caressing tone that made my smirk fall and my chest rise and fall in circles.

I didn't like the fact that he was spot on again. True, I said those things because that's just my humor and because I love seeing him laugh and hearing it. But just now, I said that because I was hurting, like he said. I don't like feeling hurt and weak and I didn't want him hurting either. Yet, right then, he just laid it out on the table like it is. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

He slid closer to me, taking my hands in his. His eyebrows dipped, eyes honest and caring. "There is a reason I'm pissed off. And I want to be pissed off and upset. Let me be. Because I care about you and when I found you, it hurt me. Badly. I can't stand to see you in more pain than you are already in."

I shook my head slightly. "Me being harassed, that really gets under your skin. Like with Patrick and now with what happened," I paused after pointing that out. "Why?"

"Because you don't deserve this. I feel like I need to protect you. You were right about what you said before with Patrick. How I'm just like the rest of them." I recalled that. After he lost it and started beating on Patrick, I slapped him and told him he was no better. And that's true in a way. "Because I don't believe your word like the rest of them, I am just as bad. But... I don't want to be like the rest of them. I want to believe you and I do believe you. Yet, at the same time I can't. I just know that you do not deserve this," he said quietly, leaning in more as his hand left mine. He raised it to the side of my face and cupped it gently. There was splattered blood there, under his hand. He didn't seem to care. His beautiful green eyes were trained on me. "You go through so much. No matter what I think, on whether it's reality or not, it doesn't matter. You still go through it and I hurt knowing that this has happened all your life. Now that I'm a part of it, I want to make it better. I want you to have the life you deserve and for you to be happy. Even though I told Clare that I was spending time with you so I could convince you that you really are imagining things, I'm spening time with you for a different reason. I'm spending time with you because I want to turn your life around. And when you get harassed like you did, I can't stand it. What's to gain in causing you pain?" He took a deep breath, his hand falling from my cheek. He pursed his lips. "That's why this really gets to me."

I wasn't sure what to think or say. All I did know was that my chest was burning and a feeling became quiet evident. A feeling I never felt so strongly before. A feeling I never experienced. One that I wasn't sure I wanted to trust. When I didn't, couldn't, say anything, he continued with wiping away the blood. It took a few more minutes to accomplish. But in those minutes, I was lost in the tangle of those words. I felt my insides shake and my chest was still in a flurry. That feeling in me, when realizing what it could be, I wanted it out of me. I didn't want that feeling to be a possibility. It wasn't, it couldn't be. I didn't even know what that feeling was, I never experienced it. Hell, I never really experienced it in any other form either. So how could I possibly know if I felt this way if I don't know how I should really feel about that feeling? Oh god, my head hurts even worse.

Those thoughts didn't leave my head though, as complicated as they were. Was I falling for this man or was I not?