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Matt straightens up and looks back at me. His mouth closes, and he loses his proud look for a moment before trying to look relaxed. But I can see the contraction of his muscles and his tense shoulders. He isn’t relaxed at all. If, by chance, my doubts are confirmed and I learn that he tried to hurt her…
“What a lovely surprise,” he begins in a calm voice.
Falsely calm. We both know how much trouble he’s in. I tilt my head to the side and move away from the wall. It’s the only movement I allow myself.
In reality, I want to do something else, but I wait a few more moments.
He’d better shut up, but Matt is one of those stupid people who don’t think before acting. When he passes by me, I hear him whispering, “Did your little whore send you?”
I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. I fail.
I put my hand on his shoulder and pull him back, sending him hard against the tiled wall. His back hits it, and he holds back a grimace.
I lean toward him. “Don’t play dumb with me.”
His jaw clenches. He hates being in a weak position.
“What? You don’t want me to insult your bitch?” he asks, pushing me away. “Try not to damage her too much, so that I can enjoy her afterwards.”
I press my forearm against his throat, sticking his head to the wall. “I’m beginning to think you’re suicidal.”
I tighten my grip. He tries to pull away but I press him a little more. I feel his Adam’s apple under my skin, slowly being crushed. Matt has hated me for so long.
“Don’t look at her, don’t think about her, don’t talk about her. Fuck, if you cross her path one more time, I’ll break both your knees,” I hiss coldly.
A laugh comes out of his mouth roughly.
“She was the one who crossed my path Wednesday night. She looked like a deer caught between the headlights of a car. She came right to me.”
Last Wednesday? What the hell is this shit? When did Iris run into Matt? At a party? Connections are forming in my brain, I understand a lot of things, and I don’t like the conclusions I draw at all.
“Did you hurt her?”
I’m talking about her arm, but he doesn’t really seem to understand what I’m referring to. Maybe I’ve got the wrong idea about Iris’s bruise, but I can’t seem to calm down. The only thing I want to do is keep her away from that jerk and protect her.
What I couldn’t do with my little sister.
“I don’t—” he starts with difficulty.
I pull him towards me to slam him hard against the wall again. The back of his head bounces against the tile and his teeth clatter.
“Shut up,” I order him. “Stay away from her.”
I suddenly release him, turn around and start walking towards the door.
“The problem with you,” he spits behind my back, “is that you don’t have the balls to go all the way.”
I turn around when I hear fast footsteps and just avoid his fist. I then send mine, not at his face, but to his ribs. He lets out an expletive, and his elbow ends up in my lower jaw.
Damn it.
I push his head towards the ground and raise my knee, which strikes his chest violently.
“Your problem is that you never knew how to shut your big mouth,” I say.
I’m boiling inside, and all my anger is directed towards him. He tries to get up and hit me in turn, but I move away and take advantage of the fact that he is still bent over to pull his hair back. His nose cracks loudly, and a stream of blood escapes from his nostrils as I slam his head down on the sink.
All my hatred for him comes out in that moment. All my hatred towards him for what he did to my little sister and what he would probably like to do to Iris comes out. He falls to the ground, holding his nose.
