Chapter 23 Retaliation
?Azalea?
I rise from my position on the floor slowly making my best attempts not to fall over and injure myself further.
I grip onto the railing of the stairs once I can reach it and on my way to the kitchen, I hold onto anything that I think will keep me standing.
I grip the paper towels on the hook they sit on and only just now realize how bloodied my hands are. I turn and look at the trail of blood I left behind on the railing of the stairs, the wall, and even the couch.
How much am I bleeding? Can you run out?
I catch my reflection in our mirror-like, shiny microwave and I gasp.
The left side of my face is covered in blood, my teeth are red-stained with the blood that drips down my chin, and it breaks my heart all over again.
How could a father do this to their child?
I grab the paper towels and try to wipe the excess blood from my cheek. I can't even get half an inch away from the cut from his ring on my cheekbone; it hurts too bad.
I wipe my chin but the blood from both places still doesn't stop and my tears don't either. Blood soaks the paper towel and I go to grab another.
Every slight movement of my cheek makes me want to stub my toe on something just to have pain somewhere else to take my mind off it.
My movements stop when I hear him coming back down the stairs. Moving as quickly as I can, I grab my car keys off the hook and rush out the door.
Where am I gonna go?
Taco Bell. Shut up, I can't go there. Can I? No.
The hospital is an absolute no-go. Who's got the money for that? Not me. I would if I was a stripper though.
I did come to the conclusion that I need to tell someone. Grey.
I never wanted to break my family up worse than it already is.
But I wasn't wanting to do it so soon. I wanted to not look like I do right now but I guess I don't really have a choice.
I can't necessarily cover this us with makeup.
And I think I need some Jesus and medical assistance because my cheek is still gushing.
I turn on my car and wipe the tears from my eyes to see the road as best as I can.
I probably shouldn't be driving at all in my predicament and considering the wet roads.
But if I do wreck, it sure wouldn't hurt Dad at all. He said the opposite actually.
Whatever happens, happens.
My adrenaline decreases and harsh pain begins to set in. When tears fill my eyes, I blink rapidly to get them cleared.
Whenever I feel my blood dripping off my face, I make sure to wipe it with my sleeve. Why not? This sweatshirt is already covered anyway.
I try to stay calm at red lights, praying that no one will see me and freak out. I haven't fully seen myself but I know there's blood everywhere.
Before I left I should've gotten paper towels but I was just too terrified of Dad seeing me again and maybe continuing.
I park in the closet parking spot you can get to Grey's restaurant/bar/flippin' headquarters for his drug cartel.
I stay wiping my face as close to the gash as I can handle, mostly covering it so people won't see and freak out. Then again, I do have blood all over my sweatshirt but maybe they'll think it's like, tie-dye. Yeah right.
I successfully make it to the entrance. I pull it open and just barely catch the eyes of Jonas.
His eyes widen and he actually looks...really concerned. He's gonna be real concerned when he gets a face full of my bloody sweatshirt sleeve.
I ignore him and walk as quickly as I can into the back, I'd hate to ruin someone's meal by seeing me look gross and bloody.
I wipe my hands as best as I can on my sweatshirt before gripping Grey's door handle and pushing open the door gently, I turn my body away from Grey's desk.
I close the door behind me and stay facing away from him, looking at the door.
"It's 'bout damn time you show up," his voice reaches me and I feel tears leave my eyes.
"Why haven't you been answering?" I hear his spinny chair roll back as he most likely stands. Then I hear his footsteps.
I take the few seconds I have until he reaches me to figure out how I'm going to go about this. What I'm gonna say, that is if I don't break down crying. Which I have a feeling I may do.
I might even be doing that right now. It may be tears and blood that's still gushing.
I need some Frosted Flakes.
"Why are you facing the door?" he questions nearing even closer. I feel his hand on my back and I flinch forward.
"Lilah..?" he grips onto my arm, "what the fuck is on your sleeves?"
I flit my eyes down to my blood-soaked sleeves. And then I turn to him.
He takes a couple of shocked steps back, his eyes widening and his mouth opening a bit. His eyebrows furrow like he can't believe what he's seeing and then he visibly snaps out of it, surging forward to me.
He places his hand on the side of my face without all the damage and he looks all over. My cheekbone, my mouth, my shirt, my sleeves, my tears.
"Oh my God," he whispers in shock. He moves to touch my cheek and I flinch away.
"It hurts," I mumble hushedly, "please don't touch it."
"Who the fuck did this to you?" his voice changes drastically from concerned to deadly. I stay silent, afraid to open my mouth and suddenly ugly cry.
He wipes away the blood about to drip from my jaw.
"You're touching my blood without knowing if I have diseases," I breathe out. Hepatitis or something, I don't know, I'm not a scientist.
"Who fucking did it Azalea?" he demands and I verbally freeze. After so long of keeping it to myself and not telling a single soul, I find it hard to just say it.
He pulls away from me I catch his tensed body, clenched jaw, and bawled fists. And I feel bad about not being able to just freaking say it.
I hold back a gasp when he suddenly grips the edge of his desk and flips the entire thing.
Oh no, the iMac. What about my movies?
He picks up his chair and he throws it clean across the room. I flinch as it hits the wall loudly, breaking into dozens of different pieces.
Watch out, we've got Hulk over here. Except he's gray instead of green, 'cause his name is Grey- stop.
He walks back over to me his chest rising and falling quick. He pulls me away from the door and in front of him. He wipes more blood only for it to return not even a second later.
"You need to tell me that it is who I think it is," he says lowly and I let out a sob. Of course he pretty much already knows.
"I can take care of it Lilah, I promise. You need to tell me. I can't do anything if you don't tell me," he pleads just before the door to his office opens harshly.
Jai steps in looking at all the damage. His eyes find me and they widen in great concern. Then they fall on Grey and Grey's bloodied hand from wiping my face.
"What the fuck did you do?" Jai sneers to Grey and my eyes widen. Oh gosh, it does look bad.
"You think I did this to her?" Grey growls out.
"It doesn't look to be in your goddamn favor Grey," Jai walks toward us.
"That's fresh," he tilts my face to him, pointing at it.
Pointing is rude.
My blood drips onto his hand and I internally cry harder.
He grips Grey's arm and lifts his bloody hand and bloody knuckles from where the excessive blood dripped onto all parts of his hand.
Grey jerks his arm away.
He doesn't like people to touch him.
"He didn't do it," I speak up shaking my head softly.
"Azalea," Jai starts, "you don't have to defend hi-"
"What the shit?" Lincoln walks in, "What are you two fucking doing?!"
Lincoln pulls me to him seeing a scene that looks even worse. My face all fudged up, Grey with my blood on his hands, and Jai with my blood on his hands.
"Linc," I start and he places his hand on the side of my face, searching over the gash and my lip, "they didn't-"
"Oh my fucking God!" Theo runs in, his eyes darting all over the place, "what the hell are y'all doing to her?!"
This is getting ridiculous. I should probably be getting some type of medical attention but everyone is too busy trying to blame someone else.
"Shut the fuck up!" Grey sneers loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Like you can say shit, you woman-beater!" Jai shouts and I gasp.
I caused them to hate each other. Everything's my fault. I should've just never come here and waited for these injuries to heal themselves.
"Excuse me Jai!" Theo yells, "you can't say shit! Look at you, blood all over your fucking hands!"
"I came in here after I heard that loud noise and here Grey is, he flipped the whole damn place upside down and his knuckles are all bloody!" Jai points an accusing finger at Grey.
Where's Dr. Weiner, or whatever his name is when you need him?
"I would never put my fucking hands on her," Grey shoves him back into the wall.
"He didn't hit me," I attempt but it can't be heard over their arguing. I begin feeling lightheaded and I try to take deep breaths.
If I pass out and hit my head on the way down, I'm suing everyone in this room.
"That's not what it looks like!" Lincoln inputs, "both of y'all have bloody knuckles, you both hit her."
Have I lost too much blood? It feels like I have.
"Hell no! It looks like all three of you hit her," Theo chimes in loudly.
"No," my voice only comes out as a whisper as I start feeling even fainter.
"Grey," I try calling out but he doesn't hear me the first time.
"Grey," I say as loud as my body will let me. His head whips over to me as my head struggles to stay upright.
I fall back against the wall behind me, barely being able to react to the pain it causes on my back.
Grey rushes over to me and conversation stops.
"Call Karter," he demands.
~~~
I wake up to the sound of my own stomach grumbling. My face hurts, my lips hurt, my back hurts, I have to fart, I have to pee, I'm hungry, I need to crack my butt-bone, and my mother trucking fingernail polish came off a little bit on one nail.
I'm driving the struggle bus.
I open my eyes and find what looks similar to a hospital room. I look to the side of my bed and see the blood pouch thingy that I remember vividly from the accident stands beside me.
I knew I was losing too much.