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What I have with Delaney may be dangerous as all hell, but it’s fucking real. She doesn’t judge me or expect anything I can’t give her. Together, we’re just…us.
I’m looking down at my phone when two cars pull up out of nowhere. A bunch of guys jump out, but I only recognize one—Carter.
“Aw, look who’s all alone,” he mocks, coming closer. “Who are you waiting for? Your girlfriend?”
Before I have a chance to move, three people come behind me, grabbing my arms and holding me so I can’t move. I try to break free, but it’s no use. I’m overpowered. Carter stalks toward me, looking like the cat that caught the canary.
“Maybe next time you’ll listen when I say to stay the fuck away from someone.”
14
DELANEY
“Okay, so you’re just not going to tell me how things went from him with some other bitch to you wearing his jersey at a football game? Like, we’re just pretending that didn’t happen?”
Tessa has been questioning me since the second we left the football field. I get it. The whole situation confuses even me, and I’m living it. However, I’m loving where things are at and questioning them may cause that to change. Personally, that’s not a change that I find worth it.
“I told you—he wasn’t hooking up with her. She needed help. He was trying to be nice.”
She looks at me skeptically. “And you believed that?”
I groan. “Shut up. You don’t know him like I do. He’s not all bad.”
“Delaney, I’ve personally seen that boy piss on a teacher’s car door handle because she gave him detention.”
“Okay,” I cav
e. “He’s like eighty percent bad, but not with this. You didn’t see the look on his face last night. The idea of losing me genuinely hurt him.”
She rolls her eyes. “So, clearly, sleeping with him was the only option.”
I laugh, not justifying her with an answer as I go over to my dresser and pull out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. I don’t know what the plans are for tonight, but I’d much rather be prepared than need to come back here again.
Tessa’s phone rings, and she exhales in defeat. “All I’m saying is you should be careful.” She hits to answer then brings the phone to her ear. “Hey E… Wait, what? What the fuck happened? Okay, okay. We’ll be right there.” Like it’s the end of the world, she hangs up and rushes toward my door. “Come on. We have to go.”
“What?” I ask, confused. “Tessa, what happened?”
Her next words cause fear and a level of anger I didn’t think was possible to wash over me. “Knox was jumped.”
PULLING UP TO HIS house, I can’t get out of the car and inside fast enough. The sound of Knox flipping out can be heard from all the way across the street. He’s obviously pissed, but who wouldn’t be?
Tessa and I run up the porch and in the door. The sight in front of me makes my whole world stop. Knox’s beautiful face is swollen and misshapen. He has a gash across his cheek and a pretty bad bruise already forming underneath his eye. His lip is cracked open and his shirt shows the remnants of dried blood. If this is what I can see at first glance, I can only imagine what the covered portion of him looks like.
“Get the fuck off me,” he screams as Zayn is trying to get him to calm down. “I want to find him. I want to find him and put his fucking ass in the hospital. I swear to God.”
“His dad is the DA,” Z reminds, but Knox isn’t listening. “Just sit down, man. Come on.”
Carter did this?
Knox paces back and forth, not even realizing I’m here. “No way. He’s a fucking dead man.”
Zayn looks over at me with pleading eyes, and with a nudge from Tessa, I jump into action. I have to get directly in front of Knox before he sees me, but when he does, he freezes. I reach up, putting a tender hand on his cheek, and he leans into my touch.
“Sit down. I need to clean you up.”
To everyone’s surprise, he reluctantly listens. I go over to grab a bowl and fill it with water before snagging the first aid kit from the kitchen table. Bringing everything with me, I sit down on the coffee table in front of him. I wet the cloth and bring it to his lip, flinching as he hisses in pain but doesn’t pull away.
Over the next ten minutes, I do my best to fix him—cleaning off the dried blood and applying antibacterial cream where I can. He’s definitely going to be sore in the morning, though, and require something better than germ killer. No one says a word as I work, either because they’re afraid Knox will get pissed off again or they’re shocked that he’s obeying my every word.
