I roared, ready to fight. Axel sat sprawled on the floor, blood pouring from his nose as he stared at me in shock. The party had fallen silent, and I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"You need to leave, now." I pushed the hand away to see it was Sam White. He looked at me with unease; I knew he meant the police. I pointed at my so-called friends and walked away.
"Fuck you all."
I shoved past Sam, and he followed me to my car.
"Fenton, wait, calm down, man. What was that about? Where's Annabelle?"
I turned to him then, my fists bunched up at my sides. I had a history with him, and it was well known we didn't get on.
"Don't mention her name," I snarled as I squared up to him, prepared to take him on too. I was beyond angry, and aggression was my new best friend. We stared at each other as he finally stepped back, nodding slowly.
"You did that for her."
I turned away then, back to my car. I had to go; I couldn't stay here. My heart was hurting, and only one person could stop that. I drove to my house, my hand aching from punching Axel. I stormed into my house to see Reuben glance at me in surprise.
"What the fuck?"
I heard my mother scold him for his language as I closed my eyes. I did not want to deal with her right now.
"Bailey, get in here. Where have you been?"
I walked into the lounge; my mother sat curled up on the soft armchair with a glass of wine in her hand, her hair in waves around her shoulders. She exchanged a glance with Reuben as she cleared her throat.
"Baby, what's wrong?"
I stood, unable to answer. I realized I had blood on my shirt and closed my eyes.
"I hit Axel," I muttered as my mother gazed at me in horror, her blue eyes mirroring mine.
"What on earth for? Bailey, you can't go around hitting people! What if he presses charges?" She demanded, her voice shrill.
Reuben stood then and led me into the kitchen, asking my mother to give us a moment. He folded his arms and studied me carefully before he spoke.
"This is to do with Annabelle, isn't it." It was more of a statement than a question. I paced around the kitchen like a caged animal, the fury and sadness clashing inside me as I grunted in response.
"Bailey. Tell me what happened."
So I did. Reuben sighed as he poured a whiskey into a tumbler, the amber liquid splashing into the crystal glass as I watched idly. I didn't drink, so he didn't offer. It was three am, and I was wide awake.
"So if he presses charges, you are off to the police station. You could've just come home; why did you have to go back, man?"
"You aren't being very fucking helpful, Reuben," I growled.
"Do you love her?" he asked, and I turned to him.
Isn't it obvious?
I had fallen so hard for this girl that it was absurd. I slumped into a chair and stared at him miserably.
"Hey, she's got my vote, she likes whiskey, and she's a great kisser." He joked, and I stared at him venomously.
Is he being fucking serious?
He held his hands up in mock defeat as he smiled at me with his perfect teeth.
"Tell her how you feel." He shrugged, sipping his whiskey.
