The Badboys' Good Lips

4

c h a p t e r  4

"What the fuck!"

I retched all over Jacob's shoes a second time, the contents of my stomach already scarce, so I was dry heaving by the third round.

He turned away from the mess with a disgusted look on his face, and I felt my eyes water. "I-I'm so sorry!"

"You stupid bitch!" He swore at me, walking a few paces towards some grass to try and wipe his work boots clean of my bile. "What did I just tell you not to do! I gave you a bag and everything!"

Black spots dotted my vision and I let out a shaky exhale. "I-I need water, I think. S-something doesn't feel right."

"Yeah, my fucking shoes don't feel right—fuck!" Jacob shook his head with another groan. "Gotdammit!"

"I-I didn't mean to," I cried, using the tissues he had given me to wipe at my mouth. "Can I have some water, please? Please?"

"Hey!"

Jacob seemed to snap back into line at the sound of a new voice and I felt a chill run through my body before realizing it was Dylan who was approaching us. He had a plastic bag in his hands and the sleeves of his grey long-sleeve were rolled up to his elbows.

He came over to me at the car, the door still open, and he leaned his hand against the roof before bending down to level our gazes. "How you doin' over here, angel?"

"She puked on my shoes, is how she's doing," Jacob responded instead, his tone snippy. "Fuck. These were new!"

"Shut the fuck up," Dylan snapped at him before looking back to me, smiling softly and holding something out. "I brought you some water."

I almost cried out as I took the bottle with shaky hands, finding the lid already opened. "T-thank you," I whispered, wasting no time and gulping down the cool liquid.

"And also some snacks," he held up the plastic bag before rifling through it, brandishing a bag of chips. "There's barbeque, original, sour cream and onion. Oh, and these shitty salt and vinegar ones that Ryder seems to like, so... you know... there's a flaw for you if you're interested."

"I don't feel so good," I whispered, closing my eyes again for a brief moment.

Jacob scoffed. "Better back up before she hurls her guts on you too, Dylan."

"Would you shut the fuck up," he snapped at Jacob again, his tone harsh. It was such a contrast to how he was speaking to me and I wasn't used to being on this side of such a nice tone. When Dylan once again turned back to me he was smiling again. "What were you saying?"

"My head hurts," I whispered once more, using some of the tissues to wipe the blood from my face again. "I-I think I need a hospital."

Dylan inhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Yeah... we won't be going to the hospital."

I blinked. "W-why not?"

Dylan's happy smile didn't waver. "Hospitals ask questions. We don't want questions, do we?"

I shuddered at his words, eerily similar to what Cole always told me whenever he would take his punishments too far. I hated those words. I hated what they meant.

I tried to get to my feet but Dylan gently pushed me back down in the car. "Not so fast—"

"I-I want to go home now," I tried again to get to my feet but was pushed back down. "Things... things have clearly gotten blown out of proportion... I need to go back to Cole."