Drop Dead | Sam Fender

Chapter Ninety Two

Sam

I hadn't slept all night. Not an entire wink, my mind torturing me with replays of the event like a cruel movie and I could do nothing but stare up at the ceiling with a pool of dread unshifting in the bottom of my stomach. Surely this was it for us. I had crossed the line, she wasn't going to stay after that.

My only indication that it was morning was the sound of someone knocking on the front door. I shot out of bed, foolishly hoping that our early morning visitor would be Rory but as I got closer, I realised it was instead her dad.

"Where is he?" Jamie demanded. I couldn't see him as he was hidden by my mam who stood in the doorway, blocking him but it wasn't hard to hear the anger in his voice.

"Reet here," I sighed, bowing my head in shame as his eyes landed on me over my mam's shoulder.

"I'm not telling yer to go easy on him but..." my mam began as she turned to stare at me with pursed lips, the disappointment rife in her eyes. "Please, don't kill him."

Jamie nodded as he stepped around my mother, tilting his head toward the direction of the kitchen in a gesture to follow him. I swallowed the lump that had grown at the back of my throat and obeyed his wishes.

"She told yer then?" I gulped, unable to meet his eyes. I could feel the anger radiating from him like steam from a kettle.

"The handprint on her fuckin' arm told me all I needed to know!" he growled.

I recoiled. I had never witnessed this side of Jamie, in fact, I didn't think I had ever seen him angry and it was certainly never aimed at me. Not even when we had broken up. On multiple occasions. "Listen, you've got every right to be pissed at us-"

"You're damn well right I do!" he interjected, slamming a fist down on the table in front of him and startling me.

"I'm pissed at myself," I finished after recovering from my shock at his outburst. "And if yer want to hit us, you're more than welcome, I'm not gan stop ya. It's the least I deserve, but please know... I feel awful. I love your daughter so much and I never in a million years thought I would ever hurt her but I have and I'll spend every day of the rest of my life making it up to her- that's if she even still wants to be with me after this."

"You're rambling," he snapped quietly, rubbing his jaw to relieve the tension held in his large figure.

"Reet," I stumbled, taking a shaky breath in a vain attempt to calm myself down. "I'm sorry. For everything. I don't blame yer if you hate my guts now."

He let out a frustrated groan as he tipped his head backwards. "I don't hate you, Sam," he huffed. "And I'm not gan hit you. Clearly, Dean's already done that for me."

"Yeah," I mumbled, subconsciously reaching up to touch my tender nose. Luckily, it wasn't broken. It could have been a lot worse.

"And yes, yer did deserve it," he grumbled. "I dunna what happened between yous, Rory's adamant that she's not telling us but I know it must be bad if Dean punched yer."

"I let my jealousy get the better of me," I admitted shamefully.

Jamie let out a sigh, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he gestured for me to sit down and took a seat opposite. "Sam. I've told yer this before... all this anger of yours, it ain't healthy and if you want to bottle it up until you explode then that's on you but when you start hurting everyone around you... they ain't gan stick around for very long... I'll be honest with yer, how Rory's stayed this long, I dunna."

"I don't mean it," I whispered, twiddling my thumbs nervously. "I try, I really do but I always end up worse off... I dunna how she's stuck around either. She deserves better."