Oakley
Forty-Nine
“Levi!” I scream, as the spray of blood that comes from his lips turns my stomach in a mixture of fear and rage.
I’m helpless to do anything but sit here and watch the men struggle with each other at my feet.
The crack of another punch rings out in the apartment, followed by the muffled cry of Travis as he grips his face.
Hot, red blood streams from his nose, and he falls back onto the ground, Levi once again gaining the upper hand.
I watch in horror as his fist rears back again and again, connecting with Travis’s face until he’s utterly unrecognizable.
I should look away. I should turn my head away from the grisly sight of my ex, bloodied beneath the fists of my lover.
But I don’t. I can’t. I’m drawn to the sight like a moth to a flame, unable to tear my gaze away even if I wanted to.
Maybe a sick, twisted part of myself is relishing the sight of the man who used to beat me black and blue finally getting a taste of his own medicine.
After all, it’s nothing he hasn’t done to me before, and nothing he doesn’t deserve now.
Justin rushes over to me, fumbling with a set of keys he must have found somewhere in the apartment.
He unlocks my wrists first, and I moan at the sting of pain as the metal releases, bringing my hands to the front and rubbing over the red welts the cuffs left, before cradling my broken wrist against my chest. Then, he’s bending over and unlocking my ankles, and I instinctively tuck my legs beneath me on the couch, the unidentifiable stains long forgotten in my attempt to make myself as small as possible.
I watch in dazed fascination as Levi batters the limp man beneath him, his brows pulled down in a furious line, his lips twisted back from his teeth in a terrifying sneer. And yet, amid the violence, all I can see is the man I fell in love with, protecting what belongs to him.
There’s something beautiful in the way his fists fly, in the way they land against pulverized bone and torn skin, in the way they draw back, dripping with fresh blood, ready to repeat the process all over again.
Yet still, I know that what I’m witnessing right now is the very thing that Levi’s been afraid of this whole time—becoming his father.
The circumstances are wholly different, worlds apart from what he witnessed as a child, but I can’t help but wonder what the aftermath will look like.
Will he forgive himself? Or will he lose all trust in the man he thought he was?
My thoughts are echoed in Justin’s wide, knowing eyes as he watches his best friend, and though I’d love nothing more than for Travis to finally get what he deserves, I know for the sake of the man I love, this has to end.
“Levi, stop.” I croak out. If he hears me, he doesn’t let on. I lick my lips and try again, gathering my false bravado and pouring it into my next attempt. “Levi, please.”
Again, he doesn’t hear me. I uncurl myself and stand from the couch, walking on tentative footsteps until I’m standing by Travis’s head and looking down at the scene below me.
My eyes flit to my ex’s broken body, nausea climbing up my throat as I kneel and focus my gaze on Levi.
His face is a torn mask of anguish, pain, fury, and something else I can’t name.
Slowly, I reach out a hand towards him, careful to avoid his arm as it swings down again.
“Oakley, don’t,” Justin warns, but I shake my head, ignoring his warning.
Levi’s face is splattered with blood, the small dots standing stark against his sun-bronzed skin. Tears run in rivers down both cheeks, cutting little paths through the blood.
All at once, I don’t see the man I fell in love with, but, instead, the broken little boy who couldn’t protect his family from the tyranny of his father. I recognize not only the need for justice in his emerald eyes, but the overwhelming pain in them as well.
“Please, baby. You have to stop now. It’s over.” Gently, I rest my palm against his cheek, willing him to stop if only for a second to hear me. I won’t lose him to the darkness.