Page 9 of Dirty Love

The thought makes me nauseous.

As if he can hear what I’m thinking, Dad looks over at the stairs and I force myself up to my feet, ignoring the way the room spins in front of me as I move to block his path. He raises a dark brow at that, staring down at me with his head cocked in thought. He’s a tall fucker, but I’m almost level with him now and I will not let him get by me, especially not when I recognize that hateful look in his eyes.

He thinks Nicky needs to toughen up.

I think he needs to swallow a fucking wrench.

One day.

One day, we’ll get our revenge on the man who killed our mother and run somewhere far away from here.

Together.

We just have to keep our mouths shut and wait it out.

Knowing I’m not about to move at his command, he laughs cruelly and shakes his head at me, slowly backing away towards the door leading to the kitchen. “You’re both grounded for a week.”

Like I give a fuck.

As soon as he’s gone, I turn around and take the stairs two at a time, stopping just inside my bedroom when I realize Nicky’s not in here. I look around and then snap my eyes to the bathroom door, pushing my way inside without knocking because I have to see him, to know that he’s okay.

He’s not okay, though.

He’s sitting on the floor with his back against the counter, his pale chest heaving, his eyes filled with pain as he stares at the fresh cuts on his left arm.

Fuck.

Before I can move or react, he looks up at me and lets out a noise that hurts my heart, gritting his teeth as he digs the sharp edge of the razor into his flesh.

“Damn it, Nicky, knock it off,” I growl, rushing towards him to straddle his bare thighs.

Carefully plucking the blade from his fingers, I toss it into the sink and reach up to wet one of the hand towels on the counter, pressing it to his slashed up arm to stop the bleeding there. He winces at the pressure and I wince, too, forcing myself to calm down before I hurt him even more than he’s hurt himself. He hasn’t gone as deep as he’s gone before, but it still scares the shit out of me all the same.

“You promised me you’d stop,” I remind him, unable to hide the strain in my voice. “You promised, Nicky.”

“I know,” he chokes out, using his clean arm to hide his face from me. “I’m sorry, I just… it’s my head, Kade. My head just goes there sometimes and I can’t stop it.”

I don’t understand what he means, but I don’t bother saying that out loud, still pressing the towel to his arm while I run my free hand up to the back of his neck. “Two more years,” I tell him, gently pulling his hair to force him to look at me. “Two more years and we’re gone, remember?”

He sniffs and nods his head a few times, suddenly forgetting his own demons to examine the newest bruise forming on my face. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” I lie, but his flinch tells me he knows it does.

“Why won’t you let him hit me?”

“Nicky…”

“Jesus, stop looking at me like that,” he snaps, slapping my hands away to shove my chest. “I know you don’t think I can handle it but I can. You think I’m a pussy but I’m not. I can fucking take it, Kade.”

“But you’re not going to!” I snap back, leaning over him to crowd his space. “He will never touch you again because I won’t let it happen. And it’s not because I think you can’t handle it. It’s because I can’t handle watching him hurt you. Watching anyone hurt you. It would kill me, Nicky.”

His face falls and he wraps his hands around my neck, gutting me all over again when I catch the broken look in his eyes. “It kills me, too, you know?” he whispers, lightly ghosting his lips over the sore spot on my cheek. “This fucking kills me.”

“Is that why you cut yourself?”

He nods, and I let out a shaky breath, bringing him with me as I move to sit down beside him, sliding my arms around his waist until there’s not an inch of space left between us. His body relaxes on top of mine and he clings to me, hiding his face in the crook of my neck with his ankles locked around my back.

“This is not our forever, you hear me?” I ask quietly, glaring at the wall opposite while I run my hands over his spine. “It’s not.”

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