Page 34 of Sweet Punk
She nods. “Yeah. I landed on my knees, and then when I tried to run, he caught me by my arm before I could get out of the suite.” Tentatively, she brushes her fingers over her arm again.
“Can I see?”
Her teeth sink into her lip, and she exhales hard through her nose, but she pulls up the sleeve of her shirt. She looks away, and I flinch when I look down at the spot she’d touched.
“Oh, shit.” Ryleigh’s exclamation is soft but exactly what I’m thinking.
There’s already the beginnings of a bruise forming just above her elbow. He marked her skin. With everything in me, I want to whisk Star away from here until I know this asshat has been taken care of. “What else.” It doesn’t come out as a question, but more of a gruff demand as more and more of my control slips.
A shuddery breath passes through her lips. “H-he had me on the floor, straddling my stomach.” She takes several shallow breaths as I grip her thigh and squeeze. “H-he—” She pauses to blink back tears, but then a fierce look slides over her face. “He had my wrists in one of his hands, and he was lighting matches and flicking them to see where they’d land. He thought it was fucking funny until I got my hands loose and slammed them into his man junk.” The muscles in her jaw twitch as she holds herself still, staring into my eyes, waiting for me to respond.
Fury flashes through every inch of me, and I can’t help it, I have to look past Star while the anger snaps and crackles inside me. He meant to instill fear in her, that much is clear. And if he hurt her while he was at it? He didn’t fucking care. Who knows what would’ve happened if one of those matches had landed on her and caught her clothes or hair on fire. Or touched her skin. My chest rises and falls in jerks. Burns are no fucking joke. I should know. I carry scars over most of my shoulders and the upper part of my chest and back. It seems like my asshole father and her crazy stepbrother have something in common.
“Kellan?” Ryleigh’s quiet voice interrupts the chaotic tumble of thoughts barreling through my brain.
I suck in a breath, blinking as my focus moves toward the sound of my name, then immediately shifts back to Star. Her eyes are pinned on me. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
My brows dart together. “What?”
“You look so angry. But I didn’t know where else to go, and you make—”
When she doesn’t keep going, I exhale harshly, still feeling like I’m about to lose my shit. Now that I know even this small detail of what she’s been dealing with, I view Star in an entirely new light. This girl. How long has this been going on with her stepbrother? And what else is he capable of? “First, I’m angered by what the fucker thought he could get away with—not with you. Never with you. And second… I make what? What were you going to say?”
“You make me feel safe.” Her murmured admission sinks deep into every tortured corner of my mind. In that moment, I know without a shadow of a doubt that I will be that safe place for her, no matter what. If I can shelter her from the storm that is raging around her, I’ll consider myself successful.
Out of the corner of my eye, I note the swooning gesture Ryleigh makes before she turns around and goes back to her painting. “Do you want to go somewhere so you can fill me in on everything that’s been happening? There’s a lot of stuff suddenly making more and more sense to me.”
After a moment’s thought, Star shakes her head. “Can we wait until I have everyone together? I don’t want to have to keep rehashing everything, and I could honestly use a distraction because I’ve been on the verge of freaking out all afternoon.” She grits her teeth. “Is that awful?”
“No.” I rise out of my crouched position and hold out my hands to her. “I get it.” I draw her to a standing position and into my arms. Her hands find my waist, holding on tightly, and her cheek rests against my chest. My heart thuds a bit at the contact, but this is nothing I can’t handle, much like when I’ve held her in bed. This isn’t the type of touch that will set me off. We stand perfectly still for several moments just breathing each other in.
“Oh,” she gasps.
I glance up to see what’s caught her attention. Her gaze is fixed on the two paintings I’ve been working on. “What’s this? They’re beautiful. And a little scary.”
I chuckle softly. “Um. Remember that project I told you I was working on? These are the big pieces for the show that’s coming up.”
“But what am I looking at? It’s abstract.”
I clear my throat. “Our assignment was to create a cohesive three-painting project centering around emotion … And I’m sure some people will probably use a color scheme or similar brushstroke patterns or even the same subjects or models to satisfy the professor’s requirements.”
“Well, that’s cool.”
“Yeah. But look at Ryleigh’s.” I point out what we can see of her work from here. “Her themes for each painting are connected. So, I think—I assume, anyway—that people will get that it’s a themed set. She’s going to title hersLove,Lust, andHate.”
Star’s mouth drops open. “Wow.”
“Pretty cool, right?”
She nods, then spends time looking over mine again. “So, wait, what are yours, then?” Her brows tug together as she studies the two mostly complete paintings.
I wet my lips. “I don’t want to spoil it for you.”
She jerks her head back to look up at me and blinks a few times as our eyes lock. “Does it have to do with me?”
“Most definitely.”
“And… do you know what you’re doing for the last one yet?”
