Page 71 of Expressionate
I turn away from Keith’s yelling and look down. The man they threw in here with me, though he must have at least 50lbs on me, is out cold. His face is wrecked – nose twisted and obviously broken. One cheek caved in, blood on his lips. I did that. I stare down at the man and wonder… why did I crave this? What made me wantthis?
The cage opens, but I can't find the strength to move as two people come over to my opponent, lift him into their arms, and carry his unconscious body away. A ringing sounds in my ears as I’m prodded into the cheering crowd. $500 is pushed into my hand. It feels like acid on my skin. I shove it into my pocket – let it burn a hole there. I shove my way through the crowd, every clapping pat on the back, every 'good job' hits me like a stinging slap until I make it to the very outer ring of people and Keith is standing there, waiting for me with a frown on hisface.
"How did you know I was going to be heretonight?"
He frowns at me. "I still keep my ear to the ground, you know," he snaps. "How else would I have gotten that flier in the firstplace."
I turn my cheek. Fuck. I never planned on anyone I knew being here. I move around him and head for the door. "Well, hope you enjoyed the show," I yell, "'cause it's fuckingover."
Keith catches up with me outside the abandoned warehouse, catching my arm and yanking me to a stop. "What the fuck, man." He glares me down. "I thought you were fucking over it. I thought you didn't fight anymore. The other night was supposed to be a one-time deal." He glares at me for several moments more. I don't answer before he smacks his head, closing his eyes. Grief marks the hollows of his cheeks, under the dark circles of his eyes. "This is my fault, isn't it?" he asks. "I dragged you back into this hell, didn'tI?"
I shake my head sharply. "Don't be a fucking martyr. My decisions have nothing to do withyou."
"Oh? Then why?" he argues. "Explain to me right here. Right now. Why are you in there fucking someone else's life up? Dragging out a fucking match like you did in there? He was done – he was out, and you kept going. You could have killedhim!"
"Because I needed to!" I scream it into the night, causing several of the people filing out of the building to start and look at us before slowly backing away and hurrying to their respective vehicles. That's right, I think, run little rabbits. Before the big bad wolf hunts you down and devoursyou.
"No, man, you don't." Keith takes a step closer and I clench my fist, reminding myself that he's a friend – an old friend. I don't want to hurt him. No matter how much my blood is still throbbing to take a pound of flesh from someone, from anyone. "That's just the anger talking. You don't really need to be in that fucking cageanymore."
He's wrong. I need it more than ever now. I close my eyes and picture Love's face in my mind. Her pale skin, darkness in her eyes. It's just too much for the both of us to handle on our own. I'm not her fucking white knight. I'm not her fucking savior or herhero.
"The thing is – Keith – man, I never left the fucking cage." I finally open my eyes. "Just let it go. It is what it is." With that, I turn and head toward the Jeep in the back of the parking lot. If I get pulled over tonight, I know I'll be taken to jail. I look like I'm coming from a goddamn crime scene and, honestly, I feel like it. Because if I ever wanted a chance with Love...at love, I probably just fucking murderedit.
Despite my thoughts, I don't get pulled over on my way back to the apartment. But I do spend an unhealthy amount of time sitting in the car, staring at the front door to my building before I manage to let myself out. Instead of going inside, I let myself around back, where the pool area is. To the side, there's a little outdoor shower. I stand under the spray with my clothes still on and let it wash as much of the blood away as possible. But it doesn't wash away what I've done. My cuts and bruises stillremain.
When I can't stand the spray anymore – can't stand what it can't wash away, I turn the knob and finally, as if walking into battle, I head towards the building. The hallways are empty, as they usually are. Tonight, though, it feels like a ghost is following me, hanging over my shoulder, weighing me down. I brace myself against the door to my apartment, but I can't bring myself to turn the knob. Ally is on the other side – so are Cross and Blake. As soon as I walk in – dripping with water the way I am, with a bruise the size of a fucking apple on my face – they'll know where I'vebeen.
My hand falls on Love's door before I realize what I'm doing. It creaks open and I blink, confused. It's never left open. I push harder, letting it swing and bounce against the opposing wall. She must have been in a hurry. Unless...she's stillhere?
"Love?" I move further into the apartment. It smells nothing like her in the foyer. The place smells nothing like her at all, but instead like there's a wet dog somewhere in the recesses of the apartment. I get to the hallway and look down when my boots hit water and it splashes on my jeans. It doesn't do much that hasn't already been done – my jeans are wrecked and soaked through. But...why is there water in thehallway?
Frowning, I move further down the hall, my boots splashing again and again. Did a tap break? This is gonna be a serious damage charge. The sound of running water reaches my ears as I pass by the bathroom, I pause and put my hand on the knob. When I find it locked, something insidious digs its way deep into the recesses of mymind.
My mind goesblank.
"Love?" I knock on the door, shaking the wood enough that more water comes out from beneath the barrier. "Love?!" I don't realize that I'm sounding panicked until my own voice ricochets throughout the empty hallway and reaches myears.
I pull back and take a breath before I raise my booted foot to the door. I kick as hard as I can and the lock holding the door closed breaks. But the water that has accumulated on the other side keeps it from slamming open. Wedging my leg into the doorway, I shove it and a wave of water at my ankles comes pouring out. I stomp towards the tub, bending down and turning the knobs so that the water is off when I notice...dark hair, curling like long roots spread throughout the surface of the water. I reach under the surface and meet flesh as my eyes adjust to what I'mseeing.
"Love?" I yank her up. Fuck…No…She’s not… “LOVE!”
“BLAKE!” I scream as I heave her out of the tub. Water laps at my knees as I lean over her “CROSS!” I scream as I feel her throat for a pulse. No. Please, no. Let there be apulse.
“BLAKE!” My shout is hoarse, and I can feel myself choking with shock. There is a faint hum against my fingertips. Yes. A pulse. I start pumping on her chest. One. Two. Three. I breathe into her mouth. Please. One. Two. Three. Breathe. One. Two.Three.
“BLAKE! CROSS! SOMEONE!” Breathe. Come on, Love. Please breathe. She’s not breathing. I hear a pounding behind me. One. Two. Three. Come on. Come on. One. Two. Three. I hear voices and then I know they’re behindme.
“What happened?” Blake’s voice overlaps Cross’s intake ofbreath.
“Fucking Christ,” Cross says,shocked.
One. Two. Three.Breathe.
“Call an ambulance,” I say quickly. Not now, Love. Why now? One. Two. Three.Breathe.
“Come on, Love,” I plead as I pump my hands against her chest. If there is a pulse, she’s alive, I remind myself. If there is a pulse, she’s alive. But, if she doesn’t breathe soon, she won’tbe.
One. Two. Three. Breathe. I can hear Blake barking into a phone. I can hear Ally asking what’s going on – she must have heard me yelling. I can hear Cross telling her to stay in the hall. I’m wrecked. I can’t think of anything, but the way Love’s lips are turning blue. Please. Please.Please.
