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24.
Bellamy
It’s a gorgeous September day outside. The sun is out and shining, the temperature is warm but not unbearably hot, the air crisp and fresh. A perfect day for a picnic.
Instead, I’m stomping down the steps of Rogue mansion, the gravel crunching loudly under my angry footsteps. He really has the unique ability of making me go from zero to a hundred in a second. It’s almost impressive, really.
Clearly there’s something going on between him and his dad and the last thing I want to do is get in the middle of it.
That being said, I will be reaching out to his father and setting time for a coffee. My road has been incredibly rocky since I got here – mostly due to his son – and I want to get to know him so he understands the kind of person I really am.
I pat my dress, looking for my phone so I can tell the girls to meet up, but realize I forgot it back at the house.
Fuck.
I could use some space from him for the afternoon. I wanted to text the girls and see if they’d meet me for a picnic.
I didn’t get far, I could just run back to the house and get my phone. Now that I realize I don’t have it, I feel it’s absence.
Turning on my heels, I head back towards the house with a big sigh. I’m going to sneak in so I don’t have to face him again. I’m not particularly looking forward to another round in the ring with Rogue.
I close the door softy behind me and am about to head up the stairs when I hear voices coming from the kitchen. It sounds like an argument.
I’m about to ignore it when I make out Mr. Royal’s voice.
“Show a little respect.”
He’s furious.
His voice is terrifying. It sounds nothing like when he spoke to me.
It sends a chill crawling down my back.
He can only be talking to Rogue that way. He was the only person here when I left.
Everything in my body is telling me to run away. To go upstairs, get my phone and leave the house like I intended.
But if it is Rogue, I can’t leave him.
Our previous argument is forgotten, I won’t leave until I’m sure he’s okay.
I tip toe quietly towards the kitchen until I’m just outside the doorway. Anxiety has my muscles corded in anticipation as I lean against the wall and psych myself up to look around the corner.
The decision is made for me when I hear the very recognizable sound of skin on skin contact, followed by a grunt. I whip around the corner and my jaw drops in horror at the scene.
Rogue has one knee on the ground. Blood drips from multiple cuts on his face and his eye is starting to swell shut. He staggers back, clearly reeling from the force of the blow.
His father stands above him, fists clenched at his side.
My blood is frozen in my veins. Shock has me locked rigidly in the doorway, my fingertips stiff against the doorframe. There’s ringing in my ears and all I can hear is the sound of my heart beating furiously.
My brain is misfiring, pinballing between sending disbelief, anger, concern, and fear rushing through me.
“Don’t have anything to say, you fucking coward?” His father spits out at him.
Rogue gaze travels up to meet his father’s, widening a fraction as they notice me in the process. He doesn’t pause to look at me, doesn’t acknowledge or call attention to the fact I’m there.
But he sees me. I know he does.
