Page 56 of Together We Burn
His knuckles smashed against my cheekbone, my jaw, then my temple, as he straddled my waist, causing black dots to prickle at my vision, and despite him slurring his words before, his strikes hurt like a bitch for someone whose coordination was impaired by alcohol.
Also, drunk Alex wasn’t afraid to fight dirty.
Trying to push his thumbs into my eyes, he missed and scratched down the side of my face instead. I went at his chest, but he was a solid mass of unmovable muscle, looming over me as he stared down, growling.
When he tried to rear back, I struck upward, my fist hitting square in his Adam’s apple. His eyes bulged as his hands flew to his throat, spluttering as he slid from my legs, his face bright red and tears streaming down his cheeks.
Pushing to my feet, I swiped my bicep across my face, tasting blood as I licked my lips and held my hands up, ready. Wheezing, slowly regaining his breath, Alex moved quick and low with his arm out, smacking me right on the dick. I groaned, dropping to my knee, but catching him in the stomach as we both rolled on the floor in pain.
“Okay, time out,” Alex panted, raising his hand in a T shape. Laying his head on the hardwood with a thud, he huffed, holding his stomach. “I fucked up, but I don’t know how.”
I’d doubled up on myself, cradling my junk in my hands and resting my forehead on the cool floor. Gritting my teeth, I breathed through the sickening pain of getting punched hard in the dick.
“Fuck.You fight like Stefany,” I said with a grunt. I felt Alex turn his head, his dark little eyes penetrating my skull. “She dick-flicked me last time we fought.”
Dropping a hand to the floor, I pushed up, swivelling my legs, and leaned against a cupboard door.
“If she kissed it better after, you can bet your ass I sure as fuck won’t be doing that for you.”
Levelling him with a look, I leaned back and closed my eyes. The sickly feeling in the pit of my stomach subsided to only slightly queasy, making it easier to breathe.
“You hurt her, you know?”
“You’re one to talk, asshole,” Alex replied, still lying on the ground, his gaze fixed on the light fixture above him. Scraping his large, tattooed hand down his face, he murmured, “At least you know what you did.”
“I think it’s got something to do with the letter her dad left her.”
“What letter?”
“Her dad gave it to me to give to her a while back. I dropped it off tonight—”
Alex jumped to his feet and pounded up the stairs. His footsteps sounded across the hallway, into Stefany’s room, and then nothing, until an almighty roar followed the silence.
“No!” he shouted, thundering down the stairs, grabbing me by my shirt, and hauling me to my feet. Getting in my face, he snarled, “This is fucking bullshit. I’d never… We’d never…”
Pulling my sweatshirt collar from his hands, I shoved him back, quickly ripped the letter from him, and began reading. Fury filled my blood, hands trembling, pulse-pounding as I digested the letter’s contents.
“It has to be lies,” Alex said frantically, pacing back and forth, dragging his hand through his hair and tugging at the ends. In any other situation, I’d laugh. He was so much like Stefany when he was agitated.
“He’s lying, saying anything he can to turn her against us. That’s what this is,” Alex trailed off, looking so dejected, I almost felt sorry for the guy. Then I remembered the girl back at my apartment, the one with the hard exterior but marshmallow middle.
“You had no idea?”
“I swear, I didn’t. I’d never do that to her.” He slumped against a wall, dropping his chin to his chest, and whispered, “She’s my best friend.”
Ah, fuck.
On an exhalation, I asked, “You got any beer?”
Looking up, Alex frowned and said, “Uh, yeah, kitchen.” He then dug around his sweatpants pocket and pulled out his phone. “I need to phone Mac. No, no, I need to call Stevie. I - I need to make this right.”
“Don’t bother; she’s asleep,” I said, leaving him as he resumed pacing and presumably dialling Mac’s number while I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Pulling out two beers, I popped the caps and took them back to the hallway.
Alex sat on the bottom stair, letter sitting beside him, with his head in his hands, shoulders sagged, and his knee bouncing. I tapped his arm with the cold bottle, and he lifted his head.
“Thanks.”
We stood in silence, me drinking and Alex toying with the label, until the rumble of a motorbike engine grew louder outside. Alex leapt to his feet and sat his bottle on the side table, opening the front door.
