Page 59 of Drowning

But would they let it go, no questions asked? Knowing them and how fucking protective they were over me, they'd figure out a way to find out what happened, and that's the last fucking thing that I wanted.

After lying in bed, wide awake, until I had composed myself as best as I could, I finally forced myself to get up and carry on like nothing ever happened. With Stone still sleeping, I crept to the bathroom in my room and shut the door, gasping the moment I saw my reflection in the mirror.

Fuck, the bruises.

I had forgotten about the fact that Damon had used me as his personal punching bag, leaving me with an assortment of ugly, colored marks to prove it. Panicking, I spent the next twenty minutes painting my face with more make-up than I had ever worn, just to try and cover every reminder of his torture, even going so far as curling my hair to try and draw attention away from my face. I pulled a hoodie on and brushed my teeth, hoping I did a good enough job where no one mentioned anything.

Stone had seen my face and some of the marks last night, but no one else had. As I snuck out of the bathroom and quietly slipped out my bedroom door, I prayed hard that he hadn't opened his mouth and told anyone.

My body ached with every anxious step I took, but I breathed through the pain and brushed it off, grasping onto the only sense of normalcy I had left. The kitchen was empty when I walked in, and immediately I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing I'd be able to have my coffee in peace. I made myself a mug of the steamingvanilla-flavored beverage and quickly rolled up a small joint, moving to the back porch when I was finished.

Summer was coming to an end and I could feel it in the air as a gentle breeze blew, giving me a chill. The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow of its rays right on me. With the first break in the wind, I quickly lit the joint and greedily inhaled a long, hard rip, holding the potent smoke deep in my lungs until I couldn't breathe. As I exhaled, the wind blew again, taking the smoke and the scent of MaryJane with it. If the guys weren't up, they sure as fuck would be now, especially with the delicious aroma of the weed wafting all around them, most likely in through their open windows.

I didn't worry about them, though. Instead, I nursed my coffee and toked on the joint as I stared at the beautiful, yet rough ocean waves crashing against the seawall, due to high tide rolling in. I welcomed the serene environment and the peace and silence I'd been yearning for, trying to soak as much of it in as possible before everyone else woke up.

Once I had finished my joint and my mug of coffee, I prepared myself to face the day that lay ahead. I knew that sooner or later, I would have to confront the demons that were haunting me—owning me—but for now, I just wanted to enjoy the calm before the storm, because I knew that what was coming, wasn't a usual storm; this one was about to roll in like a fucking hurricane and wreak havoc on everything and everyone in its path of destruction. I selfishly hoped that it wouldn't be as bad as it was in my head, but only time would be able to give me an answer, unfortunately.

As the sun continued to rise and the beaming rays burned brighter and hotter, I sat there on the back porch, feeling the gentle warmth of the morning sun, trying to find the strength to face my reality.

My body still ached, the emotional and physical pain consuming every inch of my being, wrapping like a blanket around my tortured soul. But the lingering sense of normalcy that the morning had brought, made me feel likemaybethings would get better.

Maybe…

Or at the very least, give me some desperately needed silence in my head to mask the violent thoughts trying their hardest to take over.

Even though I felt like it, I knew that I wasn't alone in this battle. But reaching out for any kind of help was a hard pass for me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, determined to find a way to move forward and heal from the trauma that had gripped me harder than Damon's hold over me.

After some time, the bright sun is blocked by a shadow looming over me; even with my eyes closed, I can feel someone. I don't rush to open them, fearing who might be there.

"You come home and don't say shit?" Eli says, his words slurred and laced with anger.

Slowly, I open my eyes and slide my shades over them, blocking out the sun, and trying to hide the bruises on my face even though the layers of make-up covering them are doing a decent job. He leans against the railing, a bottle of vodka dangling by his side.

"Eli, are you drunk?" A sense of shock hits me, knowing that it's still morning, and before noon at that.

"Yeah, cus that's what everyone wants to know: if I'm fucking drunk or not," he scoffs, blatantly taking a generous swig while his glassy eyes remain on mine. "I want to know where the fuck you've been for the last three days, Emerson, and I wa-"

"Eli, brother," Stone interjects, walking over with his father, both of them giving my brother a guilty, knowing look that sends a rush of panic flooding through my body. "I hate to interrupt this... reunion, but I need to talk to you right away." Stone smiled at me as he put his arm around Eli, helping to steady him on his feet while leading him away.

"We're not done here, Em," he spits, sadness swirling in his eyes as he gives me one last glance.

I watch them leave and drop my head into my hands, breathing a sigh of relief. Part of me knows that I can't avoid the inevitable conversation that needs to be had, but for now, I'll welcome a moment of peace and quiet before the storm arrives.

Kane sits down beside me, cautiously curling his arm around my back. He then gently tugs me against his body, putting my crippling anxiety slightly at ease.

"I don't want to talk about it," I tell him, my tone coming out more matter of fact than anything else.

He sighs, tightens his hold, and just sits there, being there for me even in silence. I hear the waves crashing against the shore and the birds singing their annoying melody that pierces my ears as they fly above me. And if I listen close enough, I can hear the rapid thumping of Kane's heart clear in my ears. His presence soothes my overworked mind, and for that moment, I find solace in the comfort of his embrace. The storm may be coming, but for the time being, I'm grateful for this little pocket of peace.

"Wanna go for a ride?" he asks out of nowhere, his voice coming out dangerously low and seductively thick, sort of like molasses.

We turn to look at each other at the same time, and heat immediately engulfs me, putting me in a position where nothing fucking matters, and all I really want is...him.

As long as we don't have to talk about what happened, I'm fine.

"Yeah," I smirk, twisting my lips in a devious way that makes him obviously squirm in his seat. "Let's go for a ride."

We stare off intensely until he growls, "get the fuck up then, Little One. Show me that you can handle yourself against me."