Chapter 24
After the fight with the guys I ended up leaving school and coming straight home.
I wasn’t in any mood to sit through my classes or see any more of Archer.
I was still fuming at the fact that he physically hurt Liv.
I toss my bag at the bottom of the stairs and turn left and head into the living room.
I plop down on the couch and kick my feet up on the arm rest. One arm rests behind my head and the other I drape across my chest.
Ping
My eyes flutter open under my arm. I guess I fell asleep.
Ping
My phone's text message alert goes off again signaling a reminder for the most recent message. I check my watch and see that it’s past noon.
It’s probably just Rafe looking for me. I'm not ready to speak to any of them. My phone pings again, annoying me enough to check it. Rafe doesn’t double text.
I sit up, planting my feet on the ground.
I look over to where my backpack lay at the foot of the stairs.
My face starts to heat and my anger returns.
I push off the couch and stomp over to my bag.
I snatch it up and yank open the front zipper pulling my phone from the pocket.
The screen lights up and the anger dissipates immediately.
Unknown Number
Hey. It’s Liv.
I drop my bag to the floor and take a seat on the stairs, a smirk plastered on my face. Oh Princess. I tap my screen again to reread the notification. I don’t know how long I sit here, tapping my screen and staring at the notification.
Through my silence I hear the garage door opening and my smile fades and my stomach drops. I take a deep breath and slide my phone into my pocket before standing and bracing myself.
“SILAS!” My name is stretched out in a long shout as the door to the garage slams open and then closed. “SILAS!” This time it's shouted fast and short.
Yeah, he’s mad, but when isn’t he? I don’t say anything, I just stand and wait. He will find me soon enough. His large frame walks into the hallway where I’m standing.
My father is a big man. Probably because he needs to compensate for his shit ass personality.
I may be 6’4 but so is he. I get my natural hair color from him, which is probably why I bleach my hair.
Our eyes are different though. I got my moms eyes.
The biggest difference though is where I'm tall and lean, my father is tall and bulky. His muscles have a lot of mass.
“The school called,” he says. His tone is meant to put me in a false sense of security. Make me think he’s calm and collected. It works on most people but it doesn’t work on me. I know better.
“I figured,” I say. I'm trying not to be tense. Being tense always makes it worse.
That’s when it lands. A fist the size of a cantaloupe connects with the right side of my face. It almost knocks me off my feet. I stumble and try to catch myself on the stairs but my father is faster. For someone so big, he can move.
He has me by my shirt at this point and I'm being hurled into the wall. As my shoulder slams into the wall I think how lucky I am that there's no photos hung around anywhere, but now there's a hole as decoration instead. No worries, it'll be patched up by tomorrow...
“Do you think skipping class is how you go from idiot to functional?” He doesn't care if the marks show, he prefers they do actually.
He knows no one will ever question him about such things and if they did, he's such a smooth talker somehow he'd end up convincing everyone he is the victim. He drops me to the floor.
“I have nearly straight A’s!” I shout. Pulling myself up to my feet. “Im actually quite smart. Something I didn’t get from—” But before I can finish my sentence he’s on me again. Several punches to my ribs.
“You think you’re better than me?! You’re nothing!” Landing punch after punch. “Your mom left. I've taught you everything!” He pulls me up by my shirt and lands another punch to my face. He lets go and I slump down on the floor.
“Get it together.” He spits at me. “I'm tired of having a pathetic excuse for a son.”
I should count myself lucky this was quick and to the point.
I'm sure he would've drug this out if he didn't have to return to work.
Leaving me bruised and broken on the floor as he has done so many times before.
I do my best and drag myself back to the stairs and lean against them.
I fish my phone out of my pocket and shoot off a text.
Silas
You home?
Rafe
Yeah roll through.
I pocket my phone again and just slump against the stairs.
I’ll go but I need a minute. I also should shower first. I press a few fingers to my lip and pull them away bloody.
Yeah, if I show up like this to Rafes it won’t be good for anyone.
I take a deep breath, wincing and leaning into myself, holding my ribs.
I roll over and practically crawl up the stairs towards my bathroom.
I'm pulling a shirt over my head when I hear knocking on the front door.
I shake my head and start down the stairs.
As I open the door I say, ‘Dude I said I'd come to you, I didn’t need a..’ My words die off.
I had expected to open the door to Rafe, but instead my porch is graced with lush, long curls, the sun glinting off the deep ginger color.
Beautiful hazel eyes are watching me as I take in the unexpected sight.
I pull myself back and quickly become guarded. I close the door a bit more. Shielding myself from her view.
“Princess as much as I love this unexpected visit, now's not the time. I was just, uhm, heading out.”
She looks a little confused. Glancing at the door like she doesn't understand why it’s here. Taking a breath I flinch and lean into the door for a little more support.
“Silas, we need to talk.” She says, her voice soft. Her guilt filled eyes are back on me. This catches me off guard a little and I try to stand straighter but the pain in my side betrays me. I grip the door again and groan.
“Silas?” She asks, placing her hand on the door as she steps closer. I try to keep her at bay but I'm hurting. She’s able to push the door open just a bit more and she audibly gasps. Her dainty fingers covering her full lips.
I slink back into the foyer and fold into the stairs, groaning loudly as I go. As soon as my ass hits the stairs Liv is kneeling in front of me.
“Now, what a lovely sight this is.” I joke but regret it immediately. I grab myself around my midsection and groan. Liv ignores my pathetic attempt at a joke and scrambles to pull my shirt up.
“Hey now. You could take me to dinner first.” Another joke, another wave of pain.
Her fumbling has stopped and that’s when I realize she’s seeing the bruises. I examined them in the mirror before and after my shower. Large round purple and red marks cover each side of me.
I reach up and gently grab her wrist, the one that’s still holding my shirt up. She releases my shirt and it flutters down my chest. Her eyes meet mine. Red and rimmed with tears.
My hand goes from her wrist to her cheek in an instant. “Hey, Princess. I'm fine. I'm ok.” I tell her.
In that moment something changes in her features. She stands abruptly and spins looking around. “Where’s the kitchen?” She asks, looking back at me.
I jerk my chin past her. “Through there.”
She’s gone a moment later and I hear things being opened and closed.
She comes back into the foyer and stops in front of me with an ice pack in one hand and a towel in the other.
She takes a seat on the step below me and wraps the ice pack in the towel before she presses it to one of my bruises.
I flinch away and glance down at her, catching the hurt all over her face.
She studies me for a moment and then sets down the ice pack. She takes hold of her other hand and pulls off…her ring?
“Here.” She says as she slips it onto my pinky, that’s the only finger it will fit. Then she spins it.
“My dad got it for me the first time I really got hurt on the ice. I was panicking so much in the waiting room that I wouldn't go back to be seen. He grabbed it from the gift shop.” She spins it again. “If it hurts, you spin it. It’s meant to distract.”
I examine the ring. It's gold and the opening is on top of the finger. On one side is one of those white stones that have lots of different colors, like blue, green and even pink. On the other is a floating sun that spins.
I look up at her again and my stomach knots.
“What?” She asks, brows furrowing. She gently places the ice pack to my side again and I tense.
She spins the ring and I let out a slow breath. “No one has ever taken care of me before.” My tone is hushed. I don’t talk about this but with her I feel safe.
A half smile hits her lips. “I'm sure your mother has taken care of you.” She says as she moves the ice pack to a different bruise. I spin the ring.
“No.” I laugh out, trying to deflect. “My mother left soon after I was born.” I can tell this strikes a nerve but she does her best to hide it.
“Her loss.” Is all she says.
I stare at her for a long while after that. We don’t say anymore as she continues to care for me.
After some time my phone pings. “Shit.” I say as I dig into my pocket for my phone.
“What?” Liv asks, setting down the ice pack.
“It’s Rafe.” I set my phone down. “He’s wondering where I'm at.”
“Oh.” She says softly. “Did Archer do this?” She asks suddenly.
It takes me a moment to respond and when I do it's a burst of laughter, my sides ache from it but I can’t help myself. She’s taken aback.
“No Princess.” I laugh. “This wasn’t Archer. He didn’t even fight back when I hit him and good thing because he didn’t deserve to after what he did to you.” I reach out and brush her arm near where the bruises are.
She yanks her arm away and pulls at her sleeve. “Silas.” Her tone is sharp. “He didn’t do this on purpose.” She stands and takes the ice pack back to the kitchen. While she’s gone I sit up a little more straight and fix my shirt.
“How do you accidentally bruise someone?” I ask her, scoffing. I look down at her ring and spin it again. How could he do that?
She comes back in and sighs at me. “Because it was.” She shakes her head softly and kneels in front of me again, gently placing her hand on my knee.
“Silas.” She gives me a stern look. “He bumped into me when he left the bathroom. He was startled and grabbed me a little too hard, stopping me from falling.” Her other hand brushes her arm like she’s remembering what happened.
“He did seem a little high strung, maybe he realized I wasn’t done in there but he didn’t do this on purpose. ”
Her touch is so soft. “So, it really was an accident?” I ask but I realize I already know the answer. “Fuck,” I run my hands through my hair and clench my fists. “I gotta talk to Archer.” I stand upright and then double over.
“Slow down.” She tells me.
“My keys are on the counter. Grab them. I’ll give you a ride.”
“Are you sure you can drive?” She asks me, concern written all over her face.
“Yeah, once I’m in the truck, I’ll be fine.” I tell her.
She nods and heads off to find the keys.
We’re about 5 minutes into the drive and she keeps staring at me.
“What?” I ask.
She says nothing but scoots across the seat, threads her arms around mine and gently snuggles into my shoulder.
“I'm sorry.”