Page 42 of Die For Me

“He’s upstairs, probably icing the knuckles he used to punch me with.” His tone was understandably irritated and short.

I raised my eyebrows at him in shock. “Hedid all of this?” I pointed to the mess around us.

Michael set the broom aside and crossed his arms. “In part. Are you surprised? Aren’t you going to ask if I’m okay? Don’t you see this fucking bruised eye that I can barely see out of?”

I shook my head as I walked closer to him. I put my hand to his face and observed his swollen eye; even with the bruise he was still beautiful. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Emily cleared her throat. “I’ll give you guys some space.”

I turned as she walked out of the kitchen. Michael took my hand and kissed the top of my fingers, pulling me back into his gaze.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

He shook his head, disgust clear on his face. “He walked in here just to pick a fight with me. He sure does talk a lot of shit. I can see why he has such an extensive criminal history.” He twirled my hair casually as if we were talking about what we were making for dinner.

I scoffed. Would this be a common occurrence? Would I have to worry whenever I’m not in their presence? I told them not to touch each other if they were going to hurt each other; Jack had broken the rules.

“Well, what did he say?” I prodded.

Michael sighed. “Nothing you don’t already know.”

I sighed heavily as I shook my head. “I need to go talk to him.” I turned on my heels before Michael could respond, but I heard him muttering angrily under his breath.

I walked into our room to find Jack sitting on the bed, looking down at his phone. There was a hole in the wall next to the bathroom door—had he done that?

“Jack,” I said quietly as I shut the door behind me.

“I’m sorry, Hana. I’m sorry I hit him. I couldn’t help myself.” Jack looked up at me, his jaw clenched and his wide blue eyes full of regret. “Please don’t hurt yourself.”

He stood and wrapped his arms around me snugly, his chest heaving up and down as he started to cry. Fuck, this was taking a toll on everyone. Probably on Jack the most.

“I won’t, baby. I won’t,” I assured him, rubbing his back as I held him.

“I just need you, Hana. I need you, please don’t leave.” He sobbed.

I continued to calm him down, reassuring him that I forgave him and that I wouldn’t leave him. Of course I would never leave him; I already knew that he would die without me. If I took my own life, so would he. And I think it was the same for me.

We softly pressed our lips together just before there was a knock at the door. I sighed as we parted and opened the door. Emily looked concerned as she eyed both of us.

“Is everything okay?” she pried, clearly eyeing the hole in the wall.

I nodded. “Yeah. I think Michael is making dinner. Should we all go downstairs?” I glanced at Jack. His eyes hardened at Emily; he was probably upset at her interrupting us.

“Yes, let’s.” Jack suddenly smiled. Of course it wasn’t his real smile, it was a vicious smile he had saved for people he didn’t like. Emily gave him the very same one.

I grabbed Jack’s hand, and we all headed downstairs, the smell of something delicious filling the air. Michael had the table set, and the kitchen was now sparkly clean apart from the busted cabinets without glass in them. Emily sat at the table and pulled her phone out as Jack and I walked into the kitchen.

“Ah, there’s my love. And fucking Jack the ripper.” Michael glared at Jack as he held out a plate for me.

I cleared my throat. “Jack’s sorry he hit you. Right, babe?” I turned to Jack.

This felt so juvenile but it needed to be done.

Jack glared right back at Michael. “I sure am.” He smiled half-heartedly.

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. Ironically, I could see the butcher’s knife sitting on the counter near the fridge.

Michael clenched his jaw and turned to me. “Let’s eat.”

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