Page 17 of Storm's Deliverance

CHAPTER FIVE

STORM

Zeke paces our apartment,drinking from a bottle; Enzo’s home brew. “I don’t think you should be drinking so much of that,” I warn.

“Shut the fuck up!” he roars, grabbing a glass candle holder off the mantle and hurls it at me. I scream and duck as it smashes against the wall behind me, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

He stumbles over to me, looking down at me crouched on the floor. “I should have known someone like you couldn’t be loyal. You come from a whore family. Your mom is a whore. Of course you’d be the same,” he sneers, I blink, looking at him. The sweet kind man I fell in love with is gone. The man stood cowering over me with fury burning in his eyes, his fists clenched tight at his side, his body almost trembling with rage, looks like a monster.

“Zeke.” I say his name as a wavering whisper, scared to provoke the animal he’s now become.

“Don’t,” he warns. Stepping back, he starts to walk away. I stand, worry and panic flooding my chest, the urge to make it right thundering through me, for him to know what happened.

“Zeke, wait. Please listen to me,” I plead. Reaching out, I lightly grab his shoulder.

It all happens so fast. I don’t have time to tell him to stop, and I don’t have time to scream. He whirls around, shoving me so hard I fly backwards, my body plummeting through the glass coffee table and shattering beneath me. I feel the sharp shards of glass pierce my skin. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hiss out in pain. When I open them, Zeke is crouched before me, concern and worry etched across every line of his face. The monster that was there moments before is now gone.

He reaches his hand out to help me up, but I flinch away. He pauses, swallowing, running his hands through his hair. He stands back, giving me space. I move slowly, the glass crunching beneath me as I manage to get to my feet. Carefully, I walk over to the mirror, ignoring Zeke as I do, and turn my body slowly to try and get a look at the damage. I wince when I see several small pieces of glass protruding from my back.

“I, I’m so sorry. I never meant to push you away so hard. I never meant for you to get hurt,” he rants. “It’s that damn home brew of your brother’s. I don’t drink. Maybe a beer on special occasions. Damn it, why did you let me drink?!” he continues to rant as he paces back and forth behind me.

I arch my brow, clenching my fists at my sides, my body trembling as fear and anger swirls through me. “Don’t you dare blame me for this,” I seethe. “You did this.”

He runs his hands over his face as tears brim his eyes. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

I release a slow breath. “If you had just listened to me in the first place, you would have known that he kissed me. Yes, I got lost in the moment, and for that I’m truly sorry. You have no idea just how sorry I am. I love you, Zeke. I told him that I love you,” I choke out, now feeling the night’s events begin to take the toll on me. “Now go and get your kit and remove these shards of glass out of my back,” I order.

“You should go to the hospital,” he points out.

“And what do I tell them? That you pushed me onto a glass coffee table?” I counter, holding back the tears I so desperately want to cry.

“You’re right,” he says in a rushed breath and runs off to the bathroom.

I swallow. I don’t want him near me, and I don’t want him touching me, but I have no choice. I need them out. The other reason I won’t go to the hospital is because word would get back to Dad, and as much as right now I want to scream and kill Zeke for what’s happened, if my dad found out about this he would be dead. No question about it.

Zeke comes rushing back in, placing his medical bag on the dining table before he pulls out a chair for me to sit on. I do slowly, not taking my eyes off him. His hands shake while he glides my hair over one shoulder.

“This is going to sting a little,” he warns as he sprays my back with antiseptic. My back tenses and I grit my teeth. “I can see seven pieces. Once I’ve got them out, I will check for any others,” he clarifies.

I don’t answer. I sit there for what feels like an eternity, staring at the small bit of loose stitching on his medical bag. I don’t flinch as he removes the pieces of glass. Instead, I shut him and everything around me out.

“Tori,” he calls.

Hating that he calls me that, I blink and look at him. “Yeah?” I ask.

“I’m done. Thankfully, there wasn’t anything large, and no stitches were needed. I just glued at few shut,” he explains. I nod and stand, making my way to down the hall to sleep in the spare bedroom. “Tori, don’t leave tonight like this, please,” he begs.

I pause at the bedroom door and glance at him over my shoulder. “We will talk tomorrow. Right now, I want to be alone.” I don’t wait for his response as I walk in and close andlock the door behind me. I open one of the draws in there and find one of his old T-shirts/ I pull it on and climb into bed, not bothering the remove the rest of my clothes. Blanketed in darkness, I allow the tears to fall. I don’t have my cell, and there is no one I could call in this situation. If I told any of my friends, or my family, the entire club would here in minutes, and Zeke would be begging for his life. No, I was alone with this, and I would have to figure this out on my own.

I awaketo the morning light glaring through the window. Squinting my eyes, I rapidly blink my heavy eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. I move and immediately regret it as my back screeches in pain. The horrors of last night coming back to me. I slowly sit up and walk towards the door, pressing my ear to it to see if I can I hear him. There is nothing but silence on the other side. I unlock the door and slowly step out to use the bathroom.

Once done, I walk down the hall to find Zeke sat at the dining table, sipping coffee, a mug placed directly opposite him. “I poured you a cup,” he gestures.

I slowly take the seat opposite him, being careful not to lean back against the chair. Lifting the mug to my lips, I close my eyes as the coffee dances over my taste buds. I place the mug back down and glare at him. I wasn’t about to apologise, and I wasn’t about to let him off lightly. I would hear him out, but that was it.

He slides my cell across the table to me. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

Was that it?!“That’s it?” I press, arching my brow. Not only had he gone too far by physically pushing me, but he had calledme names. Worse. He had called my family names. He’d called my mom a whore. That boiled my anger more than anything.