“Caleb took her to the bathroom to get cleaned up.” Nina says.
“Is she okay?”
“I don’t think it was her blood.” Payton chuckles.
I give a faint smile before turning in Greyson’s direction and answering his question. “I…I guess I’m in shock?” That’s an understatement of the century. “What the fuck just happened?” I blink, trying to regain focus. “He’s never acted like that before.”
“Do you want to go home?” He asks.
Home? That’s the last place I want to be right now. I know if I go home then I’ll just get in my head more, and I don’t want to do that because it’ll just lead to a sleepless night with me crying most of it.
And if I’m honest, I don’t think I’ve got the energy to be crying all night.
But what I do need is to get away from the crowd, only for a few moments…to take a breather, and maybe a bazillion shots.
“I refuse to let him ruin my night,” shaking my head, I adjust my halo and pucker my lips. “Could we go somewhere quiet for a few?”
His face softens into a smile. “Yeah,” he nods, holding his hand out. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 16
Lilly
If I could scream until my lungs gave out, I would. But I don’t have the strength to do that.
Pacing back and forth across Greyson’s carpeted floor, no doubt wearing a path into it, I take deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. But it doesn’t seem to help. It’s like my mind is a clock that keeps ticking, waiting for that moment it finally explodes.
Extending my arm, my fingers trace the spot where Kyle gripped me with his hand, leaving red fingerprints across my soft skin. And all I wanted to do was scrub my skin until it was red and raw to get rid of the marks.
Never in all the years we were together did he ever act like that, especially manhandling me the way he did. Fuck, he wasn’t even rough when we had sex. And I can’t quite believe he gripped my arm hard enough to leave marks. He knew he was hurting me too, I told him that. Yet, he made no move to let go of me, not until Callie punched him.
For someone who claims to love me, and wants me back…why didn't he listen when I told him he was hurting me?
“Jesus, Lil-Bug,” Greyson speaks for the first time in half hour. “You’re gonna destroy my carpet if you keep on pacing like you’re trying to win a marathon.”
Halting in my step, I spin and face him, giving him a questioning look as a laugh escapes me. “Lil-Bug?”
“I remember the story you told me about the moth, and your broken arm,” he points toward my arm. “Thought the name was fitting for you.”
“You’re an idiot,” I shake my head, but I can’t help smiling. “Also, a moth is an insect, not a bug.”
“Lil-insect just doesn’t have a ring to it.” He winks.
I snort out a laughter as I spin on my heel again, and when my eyes land on his desk, I gasp. “Holy fuck,” walking closer, my eyes widen. “Is that a Diablo 1902 typewriter?”
Coming to a stop before it, I lean down slightly to get a better look. Wow, it’s gorgeous. And it looks to be in perfect condition, given there’s only a few minor scratches across the glossed black frame.
“I actually saw it at the thrift store last week.” Greyson confesses.
“You what?” I spin to look at him.
He shrugs, glancing at it. “It looked cool, and for five dollars I thought fuck it and bought it.”
Five dollars?
Did I hear that correctly?
“Five Dollars?” I repeat, glancing between him and the typewriter. “As in five separate dollar bills?”
