Fate (h.s.au)

XXXVII

I work on paperwork in the shop, sitting in my dad's office as I file orders away. My dad sits at the desk and he types at the computer, his hands stopping to turn his body. He looks over at me.

"What?" I ask, his hand removing his glasses as he folds his hands on the desk.

"Listen, you're twenty six, and I understand that you can make your own decisions," he starts and I throw the papers on the desk.

"I don't need a lecture," I tell him, but he puts his hand up.

"Threatening a customer deserves a lecture, son," he states, and I roll my eyes. Jason had been a constant customer, but finding out that he's Lina's father, made him no longer be one. I'm not going to have that bastard anywhere near me, or her, for that matter. Especially Lina.

"He does not need to be anywhere near here," I explain. "Lina was abused by him. So was her mom. He is a waste of space."

"He may have done those things, but he's still a customer," he tries, but I stand up fast. The chair falls to the ground and I throw the papers on the ground.

"You're acting like an asshole! He abused my soulmate!" I yell, my father reciprocating my actions by leaning on the desk.

"Stop acting like a privileged little child! You don't own my shop; you work here. Keep acting this way and you won't! Respect my customers or get the fuck out!" he yells at me, my jaw clenching.

I stand up, walking to grab the chair and picking it up. My feet walk out the door and I slam it behind me, my hand running through my hair.

I start to unbutton my auto shirt and I take it off, throwing it on the front desk. As soon as I cool off and he understands the situation, I'm not working here. My own father doesn't understand my soulmate was hurt by a customer. It's bullshit.

Lina has locked herself in her room again to write, so I try not to bother her. She works hard and works to get things done. It shows she's determined and knows what she needs; it's admirable. I just always want to be by her; want her to be at my side always.

When I get to the bar, I clock in and start helping the bartenders set up for the night. They don't mind I come in early, just as long as I help set up for the night. People start to come in and I get to the door, taking out a cigarette and smoking it as I check IDs.

"Figured I'd find you somewhere," I hear, my body turning around to look at Jason. He has his hair pulled back into a ponytail at the bottom of his neck, a toothpick sticking out of his mouth.

"Get fucking lost. Everyone in here is half your age," I say, his lips parting into a smile.

"I'm not going in there. I came to find you," he explains, my lips pressing together around the cigarette.

"Smoking isn't good for you. Kid like you shouldn't smoke," he tells me, my hand throwing the butt at him.

"Guess you should have told your daughter that. But you were a fucking jackass who left her. Now she smokes with me," I tell him, his hand taking the toothpick out of his mouth.

"The fuck you say to me?" he says, throwing it on the ground.

"You left her. You fucking left," I say, but his hand swings into my jaw. He starts to laugh and I feel a cut on the inside of my cheek.

"Her mother was a waste of space. And she was a brat," he tells me, my jaw clenching. I reach out and grab his shirt, punching his cheek. He slams me into the wall, my head hitting the bricks. I fight back, pushing him off me.

"You're not coming back into her life," I yell, his hand punching my jaw. I kick his stomach and he falls on the ground, my foot kicking his side. But he grabs my ankle and pulls me down, causing my arm to hit the concrete. It scrapes and I groan, his body climbing on top of me.

"Then you stay out of it," he grits at me, lifting his hand and punching my face again. I grab his wrist and twist it, taking my other hand and grabbing shirt. I throw him off me and get up, standing in front of him. I spit on him, his lips bleeding.

"If you come near us, I won't hesitate to keep the fight. Right now, you look pathetic," I tell him, his lips just smiling.

"Good thing she's banged up then," he says, my eyebrows furrowing at him. If he got to her, I'll be livid and he'd be dead.

"Because everything I just did to you," he smiles, almost laughing. "I did to her."

My heart drops in my stomach; my feet stepping back. He turns and walks away and I turn around, running down the street. My chest heaves and I run up the stairs to her apartment, slamming on the door. No one answers, my hand trying the doorknob. It's locked and I kick at the door, trying to open it. It swings open and I see the bathroom door shut, my hand opening it.

Lina lays on the bathroom floor, unmoving and with every injury I sustained on her body.

"Lina!" I yell, lifting her into my arms. She's naked and I wrap a towel around her, her damp hair indicating she had just got out of the shower.

"Wake up, baby. I'm sorry," I say, grabbing her cheek and trying to shake her body. She's breathing slowly and I'm worried I really hurt her. I did this to her.

Her purple lips don't move, her eyes closed as I look over her. I lift her up and carry her into her room, my body sitting on her bed as I hold her in my arms. I wrap blankets over her and I try to talk to her, get any response out of her.

"Please, Lina," I sigh, her body not moving.

"Fuck," I sigh, laying her down. I put a shirt on her and pull up a pair of shorts, wrapping her back up into a blanket. My arms lift her and I carry her close to me, setting her head in my neck as I walk out of her apartment.

I rush down the street to the clinic, walking in towards the front desk. They guide me down the hall and take me to a room, my arms setting her down.

I tell them everything I know about her and they take in my appearance. They start asking me questions and tell me they need to stitch up my eyebrow, my eyes unable to leave Lina.

"She's taken a substantial knock to the head, just as you have. Clearly you have a concussion with your light sensitivity as well as how your pupils look," the doctor tells me as he stitches my eyebrow.

"Will she be okay?" I ask, his head nodding.

"She more than likely just had the wind knocked out of her, simply because you experienced all the hits rather than her. It happens more often than you think. Girls come in here all the time with worries about these things due to soulmates being idiots," he explains, my eyes glaring at him. Great word choice from a fucking doctor.

I look back over at Lina, her body almost looking serene in how it lays. They've attended to her eyebrow as well and I'm allowed to stay with her until she's awake. As I get up to move to the bed, I drag the chair with me and take a seat beside her. One hand takes hers and I brush her hair back with the other. My lower lip is taken between my teeth and I brush my thumb along her forehead, furrowing my eyebrows at how I've made her look.

It wasn't my intention to take so many hits; there was a part of me that knew I couldn't hit her father as much as any other person. It's her father, and as much as I want to beat the living shit out of him, I can't do that. I have some morals.

Except now, I regret not wailing on that bastard. It would have caused ten times more damage to him, and less to me. Less to her, more like. I couldn't care less if I got hit, but when it comes to her, I'm taking all of them. But fucking fate ruins it, because she gets hurt too.