Because of Karson

Chapter 19

"I need to talk to you," Karson told me, barging into my house as he walked past me. I was still holding the door open as he strode past me.

"Alright then, come on in I guess," I mumbled under my breath, sarcasm dripping from every letter. I walked over to Karson who already made himself comfortable, sitting on the blanket I was using not even five minutes ago.

He was sitting up straight, his body tense. I walked up to him and crossed my arms over the other. "What are you waiting for? Talk."

He rolled his eyes before standing on his two feet. His hard gaze met mine and we were only separated by the wooden coffee table.

"Those are Jason's hands," he shortly said, giving no other information.

"Excuse me?" I retorted, forgetting about the events of last night. The way his hands wrapped around my neck, leaving bruises on my body.

"We all saw the bruise on your neck," he pointed at my neck. "That is obviously covered in makeup now. I'm not fucking stupid."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to panic. I started playing with the hem of my shirt, nerves racing through my body.

He looked down at my hands, his eyes slowly reaching mine with a bored expression. "I've noticed that when you're nervous or lying, you tend to play with your fingers or shirt. You suck at lying, princess."

My eyes widened in shock, he actually paid attention to me. He was the only one who pointed out the things I fidget with when I got anxious. "I'm not telling you anything. We're not friends, remember?"

"I couldn't give less of a fuck about you, but Jason is a dangerous son of a bitch. I'd prefer not to see him kill anyone I know. That would put me in even deeper shit," he narrowed his eyes at me, discreetly looking around my house until his eyes landed on a small picture frame on our fireplace. It was really the only picture we had around the house. It was a picture of my dad and I standing at the beach, looking at each other laughing as the camera caught us in that perfect moment.

"So this is about you?" I deadpanned, staring back at him with the same bored expression he wore.

"Yes."

"What was the fucking point of coming to my house just to tell me that Jason choked me and that you don't want him killing anyone you know? That makes absolutely no sense," I argued.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "All I'm doing is warning you. Don't go fucking around with him because he'll get you and the people around you in deep shit."

"I don't fuck around with him!" I hissed, my face hot. "He's my mother's little fuck buddy, so I have no choice but to be around him!"

"I'm saying be careful, you bitch. Look at what he did to your neck," he pointed at my neck once more. "You don't think he could do worse to you, or even your little siblings?!"

"You don't think I know that?" I gave a humorous laugh, totally aware I just admitted that Jason was the one who choked me. I felt the rage welling up in my chest. "I've known him since I was 14! You don't think I know what he's capable of doing?!"

I let it all out, pissed that he had the audacity to come to my house just to tell me not to fuck with Jason. I'm only 17, what does he expect me to do with a 40 year old man?

"I've known him longer than that!" He growled, stepping to his right so he could get around the coffee table. He took short steps as he came closer to me.

"Is this some sort of competition on who knows him better!?" I bitterly spat out.

He took a step forward, his body only a few inches away. I could smell his minty breath fan across my face as his eyes stared into mine. His eyes held a look of hatred, he was pissed.