Page 225 of Did They Break You

“Just a minute, baby. I’ve just gotta take care of something.”

“Hey, you don’t wanna do this, man. You don’t wanna fucking do this.”

Cortland keeps coming closer, even as Chase holds up one trembling hand, trying to get Cortland to be reasonable.

But he should know better.

Cortland is anything but reasonable.

“I told you to leave her alone,” he says softly. “I told you I’d stay away, if you stayed away.” He drags the top of the bat on the ground, through the shattered glass on the floor.“But you must be one dumb motherfucker.”

Chase still has one hand up, one behind his back.

I’m seeing double of Cortland, and I don’t think it’s such a bad thing, as hot as he is. With that white collared shirt under hisblack sweater and that baseball bat in his hand and his tongue running over his lip ring...

“Cortland, I want you,” I mumble quietly.

Chase laughs, but it has a nervous edge. “See? She’s wasted, and she fucking wants me, man. I tried to get her off but?—”

“That’s. Not... true.” My words are sluggish. “Cortland, that’s just not?—”

“I know, baby. I know.” He doesn’t look at me though, his eyes still on Chase as he keeps dragging the bat on the floor.

“I was just making sure she was gonna leave us alone, Cort. I was just gonna make sure?—”

Cortland raises the bat, his fingers wrapping tight around the base of it.

I’m sinking further against the wall, my shoes sliding beneath me, palms splayed behind me.

“You don’t wanna fucking do this,” Chase says, taking a step toward my boyfriend, which seems like a really horrible idea, when he’s poised to swing. But I see, for the first time, he moves his hand from behind his back.

The lights overhead reflect on something and I realize?—

“Knife!” I scream the word, pushing away from the wall. “He’s got a knife!” I straighten, the room spinning, and I lunge for Chase just as Cortland growls, “Remi, no!”

But it’s too late. I’m grabbing the blade and trying to jerk it from his grip. I can’t really feel it because everything is so numb but some part of my brain knows I’ve been cut, and I feel something warm on my palm, dripping over my wrist.

I don’t let go, though.I’m used to knives.

I keep grabbing it, digging that blade deeper into my skin, and it gives Cortland the opportunity to swing.

And he does.

Hard. The bat connects with the side of Chase’s head, and I don’t have to fight for the knife anymore.

It falls to the floor with a clatter, and Chase topples to the ground, his chin hitting the toilet on his way down.

Cortland is still holding the bat up like he wants to swing again, his eyes shifting from me to Chase, then back.

I glance down at my palm.

There’s so much blood.

Cortland’s gaze follows mine and as soon as he does, he’s dropping the bat.

But Chase is stirring.

Cortland sinks down to his knees in front of me, grabbing my wrist to examine my hand. “Oh, Remi. Fuck, Remi.”

---