Recovery

Chapter 42

"Grace," Avery calls after me. "Let me explain."

I try to zone him out, focusing only on getting to my bedroom. 

My room is safety.

My room has a lock on the door.

I have go to get away from him.

In my attempt to press him out of my mind, I don't realize that he's gaining on me.

I'm only a few feet away from my door when his hand encircles my wrist, spinning me around.

"Get your hands off of me," I growl, wriggling in his hold. It's not until now that I realize I have tears rolling down my cheeks.

"Grace, It's not what it looks like," he quickly says.

"I think it's exactly what it looks like," I hiss, trying to free myself from his hold. 

"Just hear me out," he pleads.

"It doesn't look like I have much of a choice," I grumble, blinking tears back. "I have to say, Avery, I don't appreciate being manhandled."

"She kissed me."

Despite my pathetic crying, I snort. "It didn't look like you had too much of a problem with it. Your hands were all over each other. God knows what would have happened if I hadn't walked in."

"I was trying to push her away."

A small sob escapes my lips.

Not because I can still see his lips on hers in my mind.

Not because I know that we'll never be the same.

A small sob escapes my lips because I gave him the power to hurt me like this.

A small sob escapes my lips because I'm starting to remember why I don't let people in.

People hurt you.

"I don't care," I whisper, shaking my head. "I can't deal with this right now. Please, just let me go."

"I can't," he says. "I have to make sure you're okay. I can't leave you alone, I have to make sure that-"

He cuts himself off, but not before his gaze flits down at my wrists. 

I pull myself free of his hold, wiping my tears away with the back of my hand.

"You have to make sure that what?" I ask, my voice passive agressive. "That I don't try to slash my wrists? Please, don't patronize me. I only ever cut when I needed to feel something, when I needed to feel pain."

I focus my gaze on his, my eyes narrowing. I try my best to look harsh, but the tears streaming down my face give away how much I'm hurting.

"I'm already feeling enough pain without the help of a razor," I whisper, my voice accusing and cold. "You have yourself to thank for that. Now, If you'll excuse me, I'm going to my room." 

I turn to leave, and he grabs me by the wrist once again, spinning me around.

"Let me go," I growl, stomping on his foot.

He drops my wrist, but takes hold of my upper arms before I can turn away.

His grip on me is so tight that  I yelp in pain. 

His eyes widen in regret, but he doesn't let go of me right away.

He doesn't let go of me until a familiar blonde blur flies in between us, seperating me from his painful hold.

"Jesse," I breathe out in relief. 

He doesn't look at me, his gaze remaining on Avery. 

"Jesse, this doesn't concern you," Avery growls.