Page 160 of The Breaking Pointe
His knuckles hit me like a bag of rocks against my skin. As much as it burns like hell, I take the blow with little reaction and ball up a fist, railing it into his face. I honestly have not one real clue of what particular area of his face it connected with. I just know it connected, and that was enough to get me to keep going. Blow after blow with no let up, no mercy or regard for how much damage I can cause.My fists are now clenched so tight that my hands are on fire, and my vision turns into the longest tunnel I’ve ever been in. I can’t help but get into a boxing mindset—doing my best to figure out his every move before he makes it. After one last hit to his temple, unsuccessful with taking him down, I send another
at his mouth, feeling his teeth scrape my skin, and pissing him off more.
His mindset is much different than mine.His reactions are delayed, and if I’m seeing things correctly, this is more than anger. He’s fucking possessed, and the hits I’m giving are almost nothing but a slap on the wrist for him. That could only mean one thing—that he’s higher than a kite, and he truly feels none of this.
Rather than speaking, he makes his next attempt to take me out by shoving me away and into the couch.Rolling backward, I flip over it and land in a crouched position, just in time to notice him rushing toward me and picking up a vase on his way. I shoot up from the floor, looking around before he jumps over the couch to meet me, then lunges it at my head.With seconds to spare, I cover myself with a hand, only blocking a few of the shards, but not enough to stop the glass from colliding with my head. The sensation of the thick crystal against my skull sends it into a throbbing fit, which serves as a distraction long enough for him to get another hit in.This time into my jaw, gashing my lip into my teeth and cutting it.
“Jesus—fuck!”I yell, hunching over and grabbing my jaw, indecisively—as both my head and lip are now throbbing.
“You did this to yourself, Kennedy,” he says in a subdued, matter-of-fact manner.
He continues with a mini speech, to which I can’t bother to listen to. I’m sick of listening to him and watching him get away with being a shitty human being. If nobody is gonna retaliate against him, then being the first would make me a man of many fortunes. I never valued being rich—at least not physical equity—but this is the rare occasion that the
winnings are all in my mind, and extremely reliant on my ego and confidence.The truth about me is that I am selfish. I lie and I have anger issues. I can be manipulative, maybe not much to others, but surely to myself.I’m picky, and I like things a certain way so much, that I curse others into nurturing my beliefs because I can’t handle change.I’m just as bad as the next man that may stand next to me. I wouldn’t have said that with this much pride, months ago.
But months ago, I wasn’t fighting the drug addict, abusive, narcissist ex-boyfriend of my current girlfriend. Nor did I think I would be lethally in love with her the way that I am, enough to want to commit an irreversible crime right in the middle of her living room.I never exuded hate.I know that I said that I hate my father, but that wasn’t hate. It’s trauma, and complicated feelings for someone who gave me life.This feeling I feel for Daniel?This is what hate feels like.Pure, unwavering, unadulterated, bona fide hate.
I stand up straight, collecting every alert and sensible piece of myself I have, and turn to face him.
“Colton?”
A soft voice tatters its way down the hall, until a frizzy haired, pale Noelle comes around the corner, looking around all goggle-eyed. My head pans in her direction, catching a glimpse of her, but my eyes revert back to Daniel who pauses from searching for his gun to size her up like a beast in the wild.Forgetting about my existence, and the gun’s, he hurls himself toward her, briskly, reaching his arms out like some freakish monster. Just like him, I lunge myself forward, but gostraightforhim,runningusintothediningroomuntil I tackle his body into the dining room table—shattering it beneath us as we hit the hardwood floors.
Noelle shrieks in the background of our commotion, pre- sumably watching us abuse each other from afar. I then push my forearm into Daniel’s neck, shoving it in place to keep him hostage.
“I could snap your neck, right now,” I threaten him, examining his eyes as they grow wider while he struggles under my weight.
Choking and gasping, he still manages to give me his best comeback.
“You couldn’t.”He coughs while smiling like a maniac. “You’d have to use more strength than this—” he adds, continuing to choke, knowing his words are gonna piss me off more.
Andsofar,he’sdoingaphenomenaljob.
The front door swings open, making me turn my head over my shoulder once again, viewing Lauren and Tony, entering the apartment with confused and startled expressions. Star- ing one second too long, I’m interrupted by a sharp pain in my side, following by Daniel tossing me from over top of him once my hold on him grows limp. My back pounds into the glass on the floor, making me wince out loud for everyone to hear as I roll over and watch Daniel push through Tony to escape.
“Dammit…” I groan, dropping my head back as I feel my side. It’s warm, and damp.
I lift my hand above my head to take a look at the evidence and see it stained red.My side still feels like the stinging sensation is hanging on.In fact, it feels like a large brush burn digging into my muscle. My adrenaline is through the roof as of now, so I can barely feel a thing, but with this much blood,I’mboundtofeelitanysecond.Itakeaslowblink,
trying to catch my breath still as I feel everyone’s presence above me. The closer they get, the more I prepare myself to get up and save face for Noelle so that she doesn’t freak out.
It’snotasbadasitlooks.Can’tbe.
“Colton?”Noelle asks, dropping beside me as I sit upright. “I’m good,” I immediately respond to her, finally looking down at my side.“Hm.Guess he got me pretty good…” I mumble. I’m right. It isn’t that bad. Nothing deeper than a large gash, seemingly made with one of the pieces of glass. He got me, but not as good as he probably thought. That’s just not something I’ll admit to.
“We should go to the hospital,” Tony says, holding his phone up.
“Tony’s right—what the hell did we walk into?Noelle, what happened?” Lauren asks, kneeling beside her to look at both of us.
When she drops to our level, I look at Noelle’s messy hair, then my view travels to her neck, seeing visible hand prints in the color of bruises going up to her jaw.
“What did he do…” I state, already knowing the answer, but holding onto doubt as my hands grazes up her chest, afraid to cause her more pain.
“I tried to stop him—I did. I called the police like you told me,” Noelle whispers.
“Shhh,” I silence her, grabbing her hands.“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I quickly follow her words, stopping her from the personal blame before it begins.
If anyone should be blamed for anything, it’s Daniel, and Daniel only. Yet he’s the only one missing from this scene. I want to be satisfied, but I can’t. I didn’t get him like I wanted, but he got her, and he left his mark to prove it.She blames
