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I just want him to leave.
I don’t want to hurt my brother but if he doesn’t stop talking, my fist won’t be the only thing that ends up broken.
“She’s going through a lot, D.”
Now he’s just pissing me off.
“You think I don’t know that? You don’t think I see how much she’s hurting?” My chest is heaving and I’m breathing heavy. “No matter how hard I try to be there for her, she tosses me aside like trash.”
“It’s not about you,” Ash says quietly.
“No shit, Sherlock!” Rage bubbles up inside me.
“Her father almost killed her. Her father butchered his own wife! And now her brother is fucking missing. I know what she’s been through so don’t talk to me like you know shit!” I roar in his face.
“You done?” His calm tone and demeanor are pissing me off.
“Yeah, I am. So, get the fuck out.” I point toward the door and stalk to the radio. But before I can hit play, his phone rings.
“Hello?” he answers. “What?” My entire body froze to the spot from the panic in his voice.
“What is it?” I ask, curious who he’s talking to.
“Yeah, we’ll be right there.”
“It’s Shorty.”
Those two words are like a bullet to my chest.
Chapter 14- Donovan
Ash and I pull up to Shorty’s school twenty minutes after Ash received the call from Tia. Without a second thought, I grabbed my keys and jumped in my car with Ash in the seat beside me.
Tia didn’t go into specifics, just that Shorty needed me. That’s all I needed to get to my girl who had the power to get rid of the demons from my soul.
We step out of the car and run toward the school’s double doors where Seb is waiting for us.
“What’s up, man?” Seb fist-bumps my brother and me.
“Where is she?” I skip the pleasantries eager to get to Shorty.
Seb flicks his head behind him.
We follow.
Tia is standing outside the girls’ bathroom with her arms wrapped around her. When she sees us, relief emanates from her, and her shoulders relax.
“What happened?” I ask Tia.
“I don’t know,” she says. “Sade just lost it and ran in the bathroom. She won’t talk to me or anyone else.”
I nod and walk through the door. The first thing I see is Shorty sitting with her back against the wall, her knees pressed against her chest. Her head hangs low to her chest, and her ponytail bobs up and down as her body shakes with quiet sobs.
I hate to see her broken, fragile, and alone. I want to wrap her up in bubble wrap so nothing can ever hurt her.
Without speaking, I sit beside Shorty, lifting her onto my lap. Surprisingly, she doesn’t fight me. Her legs wrap around my waist as she cries into my chest. I hold her tight as I rub small circles on her back, trying to console her.
We don’t speak.
