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“She’s not going anywhere with you.” Blake takes a step forward, forcing me to take a step back. “If you know what’s best for you, you’ll turn around and not fucking say a word about this to anyone.”
“Are you threatening me?” I plant my feet, unwilling to move another inch even when he tries to force me back again.
“Tess, please,” Bree continues to plead.
“Shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch.” Blake turns his face as he speaks to Bree.
The instant his face turns back in my direction, my hand lands against the side of his cheek, a loud smack echoing down the long corridor. I didn’t even mean to hit him, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good to do so.
I don’t have time to prepare for what comes next. While I may be headstrong, my petite body is nowhere close to a match for Blake’s muscular build. Grabbing my forearms, he squeezes so tightly that his fingers bite into my skin as he swings me sideways, and I hit the wall hard, my teeth jarring the instant the contact is made. Surprisingly, I somehow manage to stay on my feet.
“Stop!” I hear Bree seconds before my eyes find her, just in time to see Blake lay a hard backhand to the side of her face. She immediately stumbles backward, nearly losing her footing.
I don’t know what comes over me. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the adrenaline or the sheer protectiveness I feel over my friend, but when I slide my high heel off my foot and swing it at Blake’s head it’s like I’m outside of my body watching someone else’s actions.
It connects with his face just as he turns back toward me, the pointed heel tearing the skin below his eye. He retaliates instantly, slamming me against the wall, his forearm pressed firmly against my throat restricting my ability to breathe freely.
“You really shouldn’t have done that, little girl.” He smiles wickedly.
I have no idea where Anthony comes from or how much times passes, but it can’t be more than seconds before he manages to pull Blake off me and pin him to the ground—after laying a few good punches to his face of course.
I stumble to the side, grabbing Bree’s hand, and pulling her to me.
“Are you okay?” I wrap my arms around her and squeeze tightly.
She doesn’t respond right away. I think she might be in shock. Honestly, I think we both are. But it doesn’t take long before her body shudders against mine, and she breaks down in my arms.
I look up when I hear a commotion, finding Sebastian’s eyes the second he reaches the second story landing. He looks down at where Ant has Blake pinned to the floor and then back up to where I’m holding Bree, seeming to piece it all together in a matter of seconds.
“I’m fine,” I mouth, knowing his gut instinct is to come to me. “Get him out of here please.” This time my words filter through the space between us.
He nods only once before him and Ant are dragging Blake down the stairwell, disappearing within seconds.
I sag forward into Bree relief the most prominent thing I feel right now. My alcohol buzz is long gone, as is my carefree, happy mood. What started out as a fun night took a dark turn I never saw coming.
It’s in the few moments that Bree and I remain in the hallway alone that everything starts to fall into place. How withdrawn Bree has been. How hesitant she was to bring Blake around us. The black eye she had two weeks ago where she claimed to have walked into an open kitchen cabinet while walking and texting.
Like a lightbulb turning on, everything seems to come to life in front of me. Pulling back, I place both my hands on Bree’s shoulders and wait until her gaze meets mine before speaking.
“How long?” I ask, giving her shoulders a light shake when she doesn’t answer me right away. “How long?” I repeat, my voice thick with emotion.
“A couple months,” Bree finally answers, unable to meet my gaze.
“A couple months?” I question, clearly upset to learn that one of my best friends has been getting knocked around by her boyfriend for weeks, and I’m just now finding out about it. “Why would you let him do this to you?”
“Because I love him.” She shoves out of my grasp, crossing her arms protectively over her chest.
“You love him? He’s been hitting you for two months, and you love him?” I hate how judgmental I sound, but I can’t hide the fact that right now I want to kill that asshole.
“He has his moments. He’s not always so bad.”
“Do you hear yourself right now?”
“I don’t expect you to understand,” she bites out harshly. “Not everyone can be as perfect as you and Sebastian.”
“This has nothing to do with me and Sebastian. It’s not a competition, Bree. Blake hit you. He’s been hitting you. How can you stand here and defend him right now?”
“Because I love him,” she cries.
