Fight, Jamiee - Ellie R. Hunter Page 0,17
answer when her phone pings with a message. Flipping it around, she lets me read the message from Damon.
Is she okay?
We both laugh. I know he means well, and I love him for it, but it’s getting annoying real fast.
“Go back and tell him I’m fine. I’m just tired.”
“Make sure you sleep. I’d hate to think of you alone down here with only your thoughts and memories trying to play tricks on you.”
She knows what she’s talking about. She’s been lucky, though, having had my brother to distract her and bring her back to life, but it’s not Damon’s job to do the same for me. It’s my responsibility to make myself happy, and to do that, I need to start with rest.
“Oh, I’ll be sleeping. Don’t you worry about that.”
Climbing out from under the sheets, she moves around to the foot of the bed.
“Have you spoken to Deacon since…?” She doesn’t say the words, but waves her hand at my face.
“No.”
“My ex never hit me, but he made me feel like shit. Being with your brother, the differences are abundantly clear. Life is too short to waste on someone who doesn’t see your worth.”
“Thank you, Alice.”
With a small smile, she leaves the room. I wait for the door to click shut before I let another tear fall.
People must think there’s still a chance I’ll go back to him, but I’m not. I’m not even going to respond to his calls or texts. He can go to Hell while I move on to bigger and better things.
It’s eight in the morning, and I’m up and dressed. I managed to get ten straight hours of sleep, and I feel so much better for it. I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror one last time, making sure my concealer is hiding the bruise.
So far, so good.
I have most of my clothes with me, but there are quite a few things I left behind at Deacon’s place before we left for the tour. As far as I’m concerned, he can dump them in the trash or burn them. I have no plans to return and collect them.
Instead, I catch a cab to the mall and wander around the stores, buying new pieces, and most importantly, a jacket. After two hours of roaming around, I end up at a coffee stall and order the largest latte they offer.
I’m minding my own business when a couple sitting at one of the tables nearby catches my attention. The guy’s sitting exceedingly close to the young woman, his knuckles straining from the tight grip he has around her slender wrist. He’s going to leave a mark, that’s for sure.
No one’s paying them any attention as he whispers angrily in her face, while she tries to cower away from him.
The vendor passes me my change. Keeping hold of the ten-dollar bill, I collect my coffee with my heart racing, the world closing in on this moment, suffocating me. There’s no way I can walk away, leaving her to deal with this guy’s anger.
I’m two tables down when I hear him grunt, “Are you even going to say sorry for making me drag my ass down here to look for you?”
Her small whimper breaks my heart, because I remember making the same sound numerous times before. Clearing my throat, I pretend to bend down and pick something up from the floor when I get close enough to their table.
“Sorry to bother you, but I think you dropped this.” Trying to keep my voice neutral, I thrust the ten-dollar bill at the guy.
He leaves an imprint on the woman’s wrist, and she’s quick to rub her hand over it before tucking it under their table.
“It’s not mine,” he snaps, barely acknowledging me.
He doesn’t look any older than my brother. His hair’s styled in a haphazard way, and the thick, gold chain hanging around his neck looks all sorts of wrong, like he’s trying to be someone he’s not. It’s obvious he isn’t quite pulling the look off.
“It was just here, by your feet. I think if it wasn’t yours, you would’ve noticed it before you sat down.”
The blood rushing through me is feeding my adrenaline, and now that I’ve started this, I can’t stop myself.
“Ten dollars isn’t much, but it’s enough to miss if you need it. I once lost ten dollars and couldn’t eat that night.” It’s a total lie, but the bullshit is just pouring out of me as I smile warmly at the young woman.