by Vera Hollins
“That ‘asshole’ has a name,” Masen snarled at her and moved next to Hayden.
“Sure he does. His full name is Asshole Motherfucker Batshit Crazy Psycho.”
I flinched, feeling Mel’s last insult too personally. She didn’t know Hayden or about his disorder, but I didn’t want her or anyone else to call him crazy. Hayden clenched his jaw, his muscles twitching as he fought to keep his emotions at bay.
“Don’t call him that,” I bit at her, drawing everyone’s gazes to me.
Mel grimaced, and a blaze of hurt flashed through her eyes. “What did you say?”
“I told you not to call him that. It’s enough. It’s one thing to dislike him but another to insult him every time you see him.”
I met Hayden’s gaze, and my stomach did a flip. His eyes were smoldered with craving, disbelief, and gratitude, inviting dozens of butterflies to my belly.
“I can’t believe you! You defend this... This... Him,” she gritted out, her bitter gaze cutting through me, and a heavy feeling suffused my chest. She went through a lot because of her parents, and I was upsetting her even more. I hated being caught in the middle, but I couldn’t just let her denigrate Hayden whenever she wanted.
“Yes. I do defend him.” I glanced at Hayden. His fierce gaze sparked warmth that simmered through my veins. “I’m really sorry, especially because this night means a lot to you, but I need to help Hayden.”
“You won’t do shit,” he said, his expression hardening once more. “I have no clue what you’re playing at, but you can forget about it.”
“I’m not playing at anything, Hayden.” I approached him, stopping so close I could smell the blood and alcohol on him. My heart contorted, begging me to help him no matter what. “You’re seriously injured, and you can barely stand. And you’re drunk. There is no way in hell I’ll let you drive by yourself.”
“Is that the same hell you told me to go to twice already?” he snarled.
“I’m sorry for that, okay? Let me take care of you—”
He snorted, but this obviously brought him pain since he made a grimace and clutched his stomach. We were wasting time. He needed those wounds treated as soon as possible.
“‘Take care of you’,” he mimicked me, his face taut with pain. “You’re not my mother. And I don’t even want you next to me, so stop talking.” He swiveled around, full of rage. “I can take care of myself,” he muttered and continued walking, limping. I was too stunned to say anything, everyone’s stares burning too hard into me.
“Is this what you’re settling for?” Mel’s voice brimmed with sarcasm. It touched a nerve, but I didn’t say a word.
“This is turning into a shitty soap opera,” Masen said behind us.
“Tell me about it. I’m about to take my tissues and cry,” Steven added with a shrill laugh.
I looked at Mel, but she didn’t look back, staring stubbornly into the distance. I heaved a deep sigh and cast an imploring gaze at Hayden. “Hayden, please, give me your keys. You really can’t drive, and I just want to help you.”
He ignored me, but I saw the muscle in his jaw ticking. We reached the exit, and Hayden got out first. I followed a few steps behind him, shuddering when I passed between those two guys guarding the door.
“Oh look, the little girl didn’t get lost,” the one who mocked me earlier said with a smirk, making my cheeks burn.
Hayden stopped and balled his hands. It looked like he was going to turn around and confront him, but he unfisted his hands after a moment of tense silence and resumed walking.
Nobody said a word on the way outside, and the tension between us grew more tangible. Hayden wore a constant grimace of pain as he dragged his feet, breathing too loudly, and I could only imagine how much it hurt. He shouldn’t be walking around and exerting himself. He needed medical attention.
“Hayden,” I tried one more time. “You really don’t look good. Please just let me—”
“Shut up!” He turned to glare at me, wincing in pain. “I don’t need your help! Get that into your stupid head! I don’t want you near me!”
He closed his eyes tightly and drew in a long breath. His whole body was tense, putting that old wall of aggression between us.
When he looked at me again, the dark intensity in his gaze froze all of me. “If you take one more step to me, I’ll make you sorry.”
There was so much hate in his eyes, and I already regretted trying to help him. It was difficult—he was difficult—and I’d been delusional thinking he would let me in.
He headed to his car, but he only made two steps when he collapsed, landing on all fours.
“Hayden!” I cried out and ran to him. No. I had to help him.
Blake was the first to reach him. He kneeled and grasped his shoulders, supporting him. “Okay, enough of this.” He snatched Hayden’s keys out of his pocket and tossed them to me. I caught them with both hands, taken aback by his reaction.
“Son of a—” Hayden started.
“You can’t even stand,” Blake interrupted him, helping him up. “We don’t have all night. If she’s so stuck on helping you, then fuck it. Let her help you.”
I was rooted to the spot, staring at Blake with wide eyes. Mel, Steven, and Masen stopped next to me, watching our exchange.
Blake raised his eyebrows at me. “Why are you still standing there? Get in his car.”
“I don’t want her near me,” Hayden growled at Blake, visibly shaking.
“Too bad. You’ll have to put up with her tonight. Come on, I’ll help you into the car.”
Hayden took a step and flinched, hissing through gritted teeth. “I can move on my own.”
Blake didn’t even listen to his objections. “Sure, you can. Come on.”
“Told ya.” Steven chuckled. “There’s so much drama in this soap opera, and I need my tissues.”
“Let’s go, Steven,” Melissa told him, avoiding looking at me. “Don’t forget to take your bag from my car,” she reminded me.
“Mel...,” I began, but I didn’t know what to say exactly. I followed her to her car.
“Not now, Sar. I’m not really in the mood. We’ll talk later.” She barely looked at me as she muttered these words and handed me my bag. “Steven! Move!” She got inside her car.
Steven saluted Mel and stuck his tongue out at her. I frowned. Did he even care about his parents’ divorce or anything for that matter? He was just fooling around, still stoned from whatever drug he’d taken, and he wasn’t even a tiny bit serious.
“You better go, pal.” Masen tapped him on his shoulder. “The war general will behead you if you don’t obey her.”
Steven sighed. “Sometimes I fear for my life, bro. She’ll kill me in my sleep.” He made a sad face, and then he winked at me. He approached the car with a bounce in his step and waved at me. “See you, Sarah!” He looked at Hayden. “Hayden, don’t have a hard-on... I mean, don’t be hard on our baby Sarah!” He erupted into laughter.
“Fuck you!” Hayden responded as he stopped with Blake next to his car.
“Sure I will, with some hottie. I wish you the same!” He sniggered and got into Mel’s car.
I walked over to Hayden’s Camaro, too astonished by tonight’s events to be fully aware of what was going on. A seething restlessness wreaked havoc in my system. I looked at Hayden’s keys in my hand in wonder.
I was going to drive Hayden back home. We were going to be close to each other again.
I gulped and unlocked his car. Blake helped Hayden get inside and closed the door, looking at me over the roof of the car.
“Good luck,” he said and headed to his car. “You’re going to need it.”
I gripped the keys in my hand, my heart hammering against my ribcage.
Okay. Here we go.
Chapter 15
I GOT INSIDE AND PUT my bag on the backseat, feeling like I’d entered a new realm. I was in his car again, with his distinctive fragrance ever-present in the air, but this time I was d
riving, and it felt strange. I had to push his seat forward so it could fit my height, and my hands trembled as I adjusted it. My old, cheap car couldn’t even compare to his, and I was slightly dazed as I looked at so many buttons on the steering wheel and dashboard.
I started sweating despite feeling cold. I glanced at Hayden and blew out a sharp breath because he was staring right at me. “Put the key in the ignition and start fucking driving.”
I clamped my teeth together, blushing. Okay. I could do this. I put the seat belt on and waited for Hayden to do the same. He didn’t.
“Hayden, please, put your seat belt on.”
“No.”
“No? But—”
“I’m injured all over my chest and waist,” he snapped and opened the glove compartment. He took out a package of tissues and glared at me. “Drive.”
I took a long breath and started the car. I stepped on the gas pedal too hard, unused to its mobility, and the car jolted us back into our seats.
“Fuck!” he cried out, and beads of sweat formed on his temple. “Are you trying to kill us?!”
I inhaled another deep breath, willing myself to focus. “I’m sorry. It’s just that your car is not some old can like mine,” I mumbled and slowly increased the speed as I exited the parking lot, following Blake’s and Masen’s cars. Mel had already driven off.
He turned on the heater and wiped the blood off his face and hands with a tissue, tuning me out. I fixed my gaze ahead, making sure Masen and Blake were in my line of sight so I wouldn’t get lost in these dark, eerie alleys. Hayden remained silent when he finished cleaning, turning to look through the passenger window. I didn’t fail to notice his uneven breaths or how rigid and wired he was.
Pain surged through me when the images of tonight’s fight barreled into my mind, urging me to hurry and take him to a doctor. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”
He didn’t turn to look at me. “No.”
“I have to. You could be—”
“What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?” His angry eyes sliced into me. “I don’t want to go to the hospital.”
“But—”
“No! Do you think this is the first time I got this banged up? I got beaten too many times, and this is nothing. Stop butting into something that doesn’t concern you.”
I clutched the steering wheel, distressed because it had always been this easy to get into an argument with him. “Hayden—”
“Shut the fuck up and just drive.”
My hands clenched around the wheel. “It does concern me. You... Hayden, I felt horrible watching him beat you like that. Each time he punched you...” I drew in a shuddering breath. I was nervous because I was about to tell him my feelings, but I had to. I had to be honest. “It hurt me a lot.”
There. I said it.
He didn’t say a word for a second, two, three... My body locked up in anticipation, and I had to look at him to see his reaction.
His eyes were on me, his face tense as he studied me, like he was looking for any sign of lying. Each bruise and cut on his face created an ache in my chest that fused with sorrow. A drop of sweat slid down his temple.
“How pathetic,” he said at last. “‘It hurt me a lot.’ Do you really expect me to believe you?”
We reached a residential area, and Masen and Blake sped off, each going his own way. I was familiar with this neighborhood, so I accelerated, hurting because I couldn’t have a normal conversation with Hayden. I wished we could try to overcome this negativity, anger, and hatred that separated us. I wished I could look at him and not feel afraid of something going wrong.
“No,” I whispered dolefully. “I know how you see me. You don’t trust me, and I struggle to find a way to show you that I genuinely want to help you. I don’t want you hurt.” My voice broke. Hayden’s glare burned holes in my head, proving to me that the gap between us was too far to cross.
“Yeah. I hear you loud and clear. ‘I care for Hayden, and I want him safe and happy,’” he said, quoting the words I’d told Blake. “I don’t know if you need a dictionary, Sarah, but when you care for someone, you don’t fucking leave them!”
His breathing quickened, and the tension between us reached a new level. More pain poured through me. He couldn’t forgive me for that day, which was one of the things that separated us, but this wasn’t the time or place to speak about it. He was hurt and drunk, and I didn’t know how I could explain my feelings to him and not be misunderstood.
I’d read about the ways of arguing with someone who had BPD. Some suggestions were to use a calm tone of voice, avoid yelling and counter-defending, or argue back gently, all of which I’d already failed at. I needed to prove to him that I wasn’t someone who would stab him in the back, but I had no idea how to do it. Even if he believed I wanted to help him now, would he always expect me to leave him again?
“Hayden, I—”
“Save your excuses. I don’t want to hear them. And if you’re doing this so I would owe you or something—”
“I’m not! Geez, Hayden. Will you just let me help you without thinking the worst? I don’t expect anything from you. I’m just worried about your injuries, okay? There is no hidden intention!” I met his gaze. “You’re badly injured, and I don’t want you to deal with it alone.”
He didn’t answer, retreating into his shell again, and my heart sank. We remained silent for the rest of the ride, but the air between us remained thick with unspoken emotions. I was more than aware of him so close to me, and my skin tingled all over. Despite everything, I wanted to touch him. I wanted to feel his skin and melt away our fear and sorrow.
I turned onto our street, feeling dejected. He didn’t look at me even once, and we could’ve been sitting miles away from each other and it would feel the same. I parked in his driveway. His house was completely dark, and Mrs. Black’s car wasn’t here. She was probably working, which was bad timing because Hayden’s injuries needed to be treated.
“Your wounds are serious. You should at least call Mrs. Black—”
“I won’t call anyone. Now get out.”
I flinched at his cold words. “At least let her treat your injuries if you don’t want to go to the hospital—”
“I said get out,” he snarled, turning his head to look at me.
I wrung my hands together. I should get out. I should just leave him and give up on him. He’d already tried to push me away so many times this evening, treating me horribly. I should leave and forget about him.
Then again, love was never easy. It wasn’t always beautiful, sweet, or peaceful. It also included moments like these, when you had to go through a storm and experience the most painful emotions until you managed to make things right. He didn’t trust me, but I also didn’t trust myself to stay with him no matter what. Not yet. I’d wanted to help him, but I’d always been guarded, never fully giving myself.
So I was taking a leap of faith. It could prove to be the most painful decision I’d ever made, but at least it was for a good cause—to help him.
“If you don’t call Mrs. Black, I will,” I said, looking him straight in the eyes. “You can’t just leave them untreated.”
At first, he was too dumbstruck to even react, starting at me without blinking. His nostrils flared. “You won’t do shit.”
“Yes, I will. You’re hurt.” I fisted my hands on my lap, my pulse skittering under my skin. “And I care about you. You have no idea how much.” I closed my eyes, unable to breathe as the words lingered between us. They exposed me, leaving me so fragile. I finally admitted to him how I felt, but this wasn’t how I’d imagined I would tell him. Far from it.
“You really care about me?” he asked in an unusually raspy voice.
I looked at him. His face was unreadable, but there was something—a flicker of longing—in his eyes that gave me hope.
My cheeks flared as I fought to hold his gaze. “Yes.”
He looked away. “Well, too bad because I don’t give a shit about
you.”
My heart surged painfully. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes. You are.”
His face distorted with fury, pain, and desperation, and he snatched my seat belt off me. I opened my mouth to protest, when he grabbed my neck firmly. He pulled me closer to him, with only several inches separating our faces. I clamped my hands over his hand to move it away, but it was useless.
“I don’t care about you! Do you even feel this?” He tightened his grasp around my neck. My pulse went haywire, tears pricking my eyes as our sadness and insecurities mixed together. His eyes became teary, and just like that, everything broke in me. “This is me not caring about you! This is me telling you you’re good for nothing! I’m treating you like the trash you are, and I’m throwing you away!” He was shaking, and tears spilled from his eyes. “I’ll always throw you away!” His voice cracked, filled with despair, and he loosened his hold on my neck. His tears slid down his cheeks, shattering my heart and slicing me from deep within.
Seconds ebbed into forever as we looked at each other, breathing heavily, and everything else stopped to exist. I wrapped my hand around his wrist, his rapid pulse thrumming under my fingers. I ached with each tear that slid down his bruised cheeks.
“You’re lying,” I said calmly. “You can insult me all you want, but you can’t push me away. Not anymore.”
He didn’t move an inch as his dark eyes watched me intently, reaching into the farthest corners of my soul. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t look away. I felt him everywhere, the throbbing in my chest rising with my anticipation.
Before I was even aware of what was happening, he slid his hand to the back of my neck and drew me to him, slamming his lips against mine. He placed his other hand on my waist and pulled me closer as he pushed his tongue into my mouth. I clutched his jacket, pleasure bursting through each part of me, and returned his raw kiss with equal hunger. My heart raced as I matched his rhythm and pressure. I was desperate to get closer to him.