Out The Window

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TENNESSEE BLUES: OUT THE WINDOW
Chapter seven

Seconds later

Beyoncé looked up from the passengers seat to stare at Justin who stood over her with his hand out. "Take my hand." She sat there, petrified with tears in her eyes.

"Who are you?" Matthew asked.

"Please. Just take my hand." He spoke to her, ignoring his question. Matthew stepped out of the car and ambled on the other side where Justin was.

"I asked, who are you?"

"Come on." He grasped her hand, helping her out of the car. "It's okay." She held her head down, tears pouring down her cheeks. She was so scared because she knew where this was going.

"You get your filthy hands off my daughter..."

"Or what?" He glared at him. "You're gonna BEAT me like you BEAT your daughter?"

"Beyoncé, get in the car." He demanded, watching her quickly release from Justin's grip. "Now."

"You don't have to go with him, Bee. You know that." She sat back in the car. "Bee? Don't do this."

"I'm sorry." She shut the door and buckled in her seat belt.

"Fuck." He gritted his teeth heatedly as he watched the car drive off.

Moments later

"YOU GET YOUR ASS UPSTAIRS AND TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES!! NOW!!!!" Matthew shouted, watching Beyoncé rush up the stairs.

"What happened now?" Tina asked from the sofa.

"She's hanging out at school with this white guy. The same guy I saw her with at the restaurant. She's gonna get enough of playing us for fools." He spoke, heading towards the stairs.

"I just...I don't understand." Justin spoke from the sofa with his head in the palm of his hands. "Why would you let something like that happen to you? She had a chance to go with me and she decided to go with her dad. I bet...I bet he's hurting her right now as we speak." He lifted his head, revealing the tears in his eyes.

"Are you..." Trace squinted his eyes to get a better look. "Are those tears?"

"No." He ran his hand over his face, ridding of the evidence.

"Wow, Justin. You really care about her." He rolled his eyes and stood to his feet.

"Just...shut up. I'm stepping out for a few." He grabbed his car keys and phone on his way towards the door. When he sat in his car, he pulled out his phone and followed the prompts to send a text. "Fuck." He muttered, resting his head back against the head rest. He was so frustrated and upset. All he wanted to do was go see how Beyoncé was doing. She was probably curled up in a ball, trembling violently from being whipped. "This is nuts." He turned on his car and pulled off.

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