Scandalous - Michael B Jordan

chapter 28

i burst into tears, and he pulled me into his impossibly huge arms. "now you're my knight in shining armor?" i fought a sob and lost. i hated him. i hated that he came for me only to tell me to fix my mess, then he swiped at my tears and tucked my hair behind my ear.

i hated that he was here for two seconds and he knew all my dirty little secrets. and i hated that he saw me drowning. "go. home." i wrenched out of his grasp.

he dropped his arms, but he didn't step back. "come with me."

my hand flew to my mouth to stifle the sob and i didn't have a choice. i ran. i ran out the barn door. i ran across the dirt driveway. and i ran past the house.

my legs pumping, my chest feeling like i was having a heart attack, my stomach threatening to heave, i kept running. i ran past my mother coming out the screen door and calling my name in disgust. i ran from the mistake i made on miami morning, and i ran from the man whose heavy footsteps i heard gaining on me.

i ran from the truth. he was right. i was drowning, and this wasn't coming up for air. i didn't belong here. i didn't belong anywhere, but for one night almost two weeks ago, i felt like i did, and that hurt more than anything else.

i wished i never gotten a taste of michael jordan's own special brand of attention. and i wished i never heard him call me sweetheart.

bile rising in my throat, i kept running. i ran all the way to apple orchard. but when i got to the first row of trees, the nausea i've been fighting all day became too much, and i bent and vomited. but i didn't just vomit. wave after wave convulsed my stomach, and i kept heaving until i was on my knees and nothing but bile was coming out.

my hair was swept back, and a strong hand landed on my back. "easy. take a breath." heaving, fighting panic, i tried to suck in a breath and choked.

"hey, hey, hey." the hand holding my hair gently pulled till my head was upright. "in through your nose. deep breath." tears streamed down my face, but i managed to inhale.

"good girl," he murmured. "you're okay." oh my god, he was watching me vomit. "why are you being nice?" my life hit a new low.

"you want me to be a dick?" he swept the rest of my hair out of the way.

"i'd trust it more." i shoved at his hand.

ignoring me swatting at him, he pulled me to my feet. "jesus, woman."

"what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" desperate for water, i wiped my mouth on my sleeve.

making sure i was steady before he let go of me, he slowly dropped his hands. "it means i'm not a complete asshole."

i snorted and immediately wished i hadn't. choking on the vile taste in my mouth, i spit on the ground like a fricking animal then moved the hell away from my own vomit.

following me, bakari reached into the trees, casually plucked an apple, and rubbed it on his thigh before whipping out a switchblade from his pocket. cutting the apple first in half, then one of the halves in quarters, he deftly cored and skinned it before holding the piece out to me. "suck on this."

the thought of putting anything in my mouth made my stomach turn, but i was desperate to get rid of the taste of puke, so i took the apple and ate a bite. the sun-warm slice tasted shockingly good.

"if you're gonna eat it, chew slow." he warned, popping a piece into his mouth in one bite.

ignoring his advice, i ate the rest of my slice. it was the first thing that has tasted good in days.

coring and peeling the rest of the apple, he handed me another piece. "you always puke when you run?"

"no." i bit into the second piece and wondered why i've been here for a week and haven't been eating the apples.