Page 176 of Lilah
"You already know who Grey," I say defeatedly.
"Your dad," he states. I feel stupid emotions creeping up on me.
"I'm sorry," I bite my wiggling lip.
"For keeping it from you after we made that agreement to not keep anything from each other. I kept the biggest possible thing from you."
He leans over and kisses the side of my head.
"I don't want my dad to go to jail. My family is already messed up enough, I don't want it to get worse," I sniffle.
"But you know what's gonna happen now," he keeps his voice calm and quiet. He's going to prison.
"The fucker's going to prison, notjail,"he nods and I sigh.
"I know," I whisper.
"You need to tell me what happened," he smooths down the back of my hair from where I was laying.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
"He calls me a murderer," I start, "he says that I killed Jake. And that it should've been me who died, instead of him."
"For some reason, I just couldn't stand hearing it anymore. I told him I didn't kill him. He went off."
"He's never punched me before but he did. He always wears his class ring on his middle finger and that's what did that," I point to the stitches on my cheekbone.
"And then when I was on the ground, he kneed me in the mouth," Grey wipes the tear under my eye.
"You didn't blackout, you remember it all?"
"He's a freakin' weakling, he couldn't even knock me out. Loser. I'm The Rock, you can't knock me out," I pat my chest.
Grey's dating The Rock reincarnated as a small woman/child.
"I almost passed out," I simmer down.
"What about your back?" he says and I sigh, looking over at his beautiful dark eyes.
"He started hitting me with his belt about a year ago. It's gotten worse. Harder, and more hits for smaller things," I explain.
"Like when he finds out you're with me," he whispers.
"Yeah," I hesitate.
"I should've fucking seen it before," he curses and I shake my head.
"Don't shake your head," he argues, "that time when you wouldn't let me touch your back. How fucking stupid could I have been?"
"Grey-"
"And that bruise on your cheek the first time you stayed at my place, fuck," his jaw tenses.
"I don't want to talk about it anymore," I criss-cross applesauce my legs.
"I'm hungry," I grumble.
"Jonas' bringing pizza," he shoves his hand under my sweatshirt. Is he gonna feel me up? Go ahead.
