Chapter 9 Robin
Chapter nine
Robin
Idon’t know what time it is, but I slip out and take my time washing my face and brushing my teeth in the little tiled bathroom, in between mine and the room next door.
A brittle numbness has set in, and I can't stop seeing the fear in Phoenix’s eyes.
It hurts my heart, and I don’t feel right in my skin not rushing to find him.
I feel like I’m physically stuck in this room, having to accept that my best friend not only lied to me, but fell into a place where he needed to hurt himself with drugs, again.
Just this time he didn’t come to me for help.
The rational part of me is incredibly convincing, whispering that I shouldn’t blame Wren for this, but I’ve done it for so long that it’s easier to fall into the habit.
I wonder if it was him that decided I wasn’t to be told?
That makes more sense to my hurt heart right now.
I shouldn’t feel jealous that he let someone else in.
I know Phoenix and I have an unorthodox bond; only few understand it or accept it.
As we're getting older it's starting to tear a little, which I can admit is fucking hard.
A firm rhyme of knocks sounding against my door breaks the spell and I shoot up from my perch on the bed, hoping it’s Phoenix. What if it’s Wren?
Nervous flutters dance inside me as I open the door, but I reel back as a thick leather shoe wedges the door further open, and the stench of whiskey invades the air. Corbin leans against the door frame; probably to hold himself up because from his blood shot eyes, he’s very drunk.
He towers over me. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you making eyes at me all night?” he says, gritting out the words. He crosses his arms over his chest and I can’t help but do the same.
“You’re joking right? Why in the world would I give you any of my attention anymore?
” My words burn as I almost spit at him, anger rises quickly in me, but it’s rapidly boiling over in him too.
After everything he did, the manipulation, gaslighting, cheating, he really thinks I’ve been pining over him tonight? “You should leave.”
His eyes are murderous as he steps further into the room, still leaning against the door where his foot is wedged.
I automatically grab it with one hand and try to push, but it remains firmly open.
“I don’t think so Robin. I think you’re jealous of my fiancée.
You couldn’t help watching me all night, with those sad little eyes.
Hoping I’ll take you back?” he leans down into my space and I’m suddenly caged into the wall more than I like.
“You’re pathetic. Throwing yourself all over him in front of me. ”
I breathe through my panic because I’m sure he wouldn’t actually do anything to me in a house full of guests…but something in his eyes makes bile rise in my throat.
Moving from the door, he places both his arms beside my head, wedging his knee inbetween my thighs and I fucking hate it. I’ve gone into momentary shock, because I can’t get my body to move, even though the rage turns my vision white. What in the hell does he think he’s doing?
“Get off me.” My voice is steady, but I might as well have not spoken.
“You’re such a little slut letting him put his hands all over you. Acting like such a desperate fool all over him. You should feel disgusted, acting like that in front of everyone. You should be embarrassed.”
“I want you to leave. Now.”
The spiced cologne and whisky rolling off him suffocates me, scorching my inhale. His solid frame isn’t moving but pushing, causing pain in my back as I press myself further into the wall to try and create the tiniest of space to breathe. If he’s trying to scare me, this is a new low even for him.
A tattooed hand appears on his shoulder and Corbin is ripped off me; flung back into the corridor and pressed against the wall, the photo frames shaking as Wren’s forearm presses against his chest. My eyes meet green, which is shadowed with something dark that allows me to let out a shaky exhale.
I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling vulnerable in just my oversized t-shirt, legs bare.
Both men are dominating in the tiny space of the doorway, Wren having a slight height advantage over him.
If Corbin looked murderous at me, he is damn right ready to slit his throat and bathe in his blood.
Looking away from me, Wren grasps him by his shirt and slams him against the wall again, his forearm pushing into his neck.
“Do you not understand someone turning you down Corbs? She didn’t beat around the bush. She told you to fucking leave.” His voice is dangerously low—firm and steady, like he has perfect control. Corbin, on the other hand, is shaking.
“What’s this? Is Wren Hastings, world renowned man slut getting all noble over a girl?” He pushes his forehead against Wrens, “Hm? Trying to get into her pants?”
In a flash Wren pulls back and punches him in the face, his knuckles connecting to make a crunching noise. My hands rise to cover my face and I can’t help but yelp.
He staggers back, clutching his nose as blood seeps through his fingers. Disturbingly he doesn’t look at Wren, but looks over his shoulder at me. “You’ll fucking regret this.” He hisses, before turning on his heel and stumbles out of sight.
Silence stretches until it becomes awkward, but Wren finally turns around slowly. The devastation in his eyes is heartbreaking. He looks down at his knuckles which already look sore, and he flexes it with a flinch.
“Fuck–Robin, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I just, I really hate that guy, so much.”
The look in his eyes pleads for me to understand and I’m nodding. Do I condone violence? No, but Corbin was pinning me against the wall when I had repeatedly told him to get off me. How can I scold him when I’m certain he just saved me from a very dangerous situation?
“Wren, I don’t want you to feel bad about this.
You were only protecting me and well, I don’t think he would have left if it wasn’t for you.
” I’m fresh out of tears from this evening so instead my eyelids just burn.
I have to blink through the realisation that things could have gotten a lot worse, if he hadn't come at the right time.
Sensing my discomfort, he stalks forward and places his hands gently on my face, brushing a loose curl behind my ear. We just stare at each other as I get my breathing under control.
“I don’t like him being near you.”
“You’re such a territorial husband.” I joke, momentarily forgetting I’m meant to be mad at him.
He lets out a hollow laugh. “You’re funny, but this isn’t the time for jokes. He doesn’t look at you…nicely. He’s so angry, I don’t want that anywhere near you.”
My brows rise at his honesty. “You’re very observant.”
“He’s transparent,” He says with a shrug.
“You…you're a mystery.” His tattooed thumb rubs along my jaw and I watch as his eyes track the movement. It trails over my bottle lip and I’m so transfixed in how his eyes darken.
I want to open up to him, ask what makes me a mystery.
He could come in, ask me questions and I could make us a cup of tea.
He could explain what happened to Phin.
What if when I answer his questions, he’s no longer intrigued? What if he decides actually, I’m very boring and not worth the bruise nestling now on his knuckle?
The self doubt has me not inviting him in. “Why were you outside my room?”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “I needed the bathroom and my room doesn’t have one…I was with Phin. Merle finally let him into their room, but he wanted me there for support. They’re talking alone, but I don’t think it’s going to be an overnight fix.”
I reign in my bitterness. “Of course it won’t be. He lied to us all. He didn’t let us help him.”
His hands fall from my face, touching my shoulders before he takes one step back.
“I’m not saying what he did was right or wrong, but he was so scared.
When I found him…” his eyes went blank for a brief moment.
“He knows he’s fucked up royally. It took weeks to clean him up, and I think he would have told you all, after this weekend.
But he wasn’t alone, he had me. I won’t ever let anything bad happen to him. ”
“I believe you.” I say just above a whisper, a slight waver in my voice because I can still be a little mad.
Placing his hands in his pockets, he gives me a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “You should get some sleep. See you in the morning.” Not giving me a chance to reply, he spins and makes his way down the corridor, disappearing around the corner.
IT’S not until I get into bed that it dawns on me. The room I know is Wren’s for the weekend, does have its own bathroom. It has a really nice bathtub actually, a vintage piece with gold sprayed dancing foxes as legs. I think he wanted to see me.
Hours have passed and I’m still staring up at the vaulted ceiling, counting tiny cracks in the paint work.
I barely made a dent in my book because I kept reading the same paragraph over and over, my thoughts automatically tumbled back to Wren whenever my mind tried to settle for the night.
I thought about the way he pleaded for me to not be upset with Phin, but also the sad little glint in his eyes.
I replay the confrontation over too, thankful he came to my rescue.
He'd kind of punched him in my honour, and all I’d done is replace his usually easy smile with sadness.
I didn't want to even think about what Corbin had planned to do.