Chapter 137

“Sophie?” Arrick’s voice comes up behind me and his arms slide around my waist. I try to push him off, but he doesn’t let me, he turns me instead and I turn my face away impulsively. I don’t want him to touch me or look at me, still majorly upset and pissed at him and the last thing I want is him giving me shit over my jealousy. I feel like I can never believe anything he ever tells me again. I spent an hour on my cell to Christian in a drunken mess, sobbing down the phone while he calmed my hysterics, and he only agreed with me on every front.

Arrick is the fucking dick head in this.

“You’re drunk and I’m taking you home.” His tone has completely changed, but he’s still blatantly pissed; manhandling me out of a duty of care, but no real affection in how he’s pulling me. It feels like those nights when he showed up out of obligation to rescue me and I shove him away. Abhorring the touch that is not doing anything for me right now. “Stop acting like this and come on. I’m done with this bullshit and I’m leaving. You can come or stay.” He tries to bring my face to him, holding my chin as more tears sting my eyes and I wriggle my arms free to get him off me. Fighting him in every way.

“Leave me alone.” I start to cry, but he sighs and clenches his jaw. Gritted teeth and no love in that expression at all, his body bristling against mine.

“Fine. I’ll tell Nathan to bring you home later. I’m out.” He lets me go, turns to leave me here, and it hurts, like my insides get wrenched free. Crumbling from angry wall of stubborn, to wounded broken child in need of his presence.

“You’re just going to leave me here?” I start sobbing and follow him, anger dissipating and desperately pathetic, suddenly scared that he really is going to walk off and leave me alone here. I don’t want to be left alone. I can’t breathe at the thought that he will walk off and leave me here.

“Right now, yes! Because I’m drunk and being the asshole, you hate, and this is only going to kick off if we stay together. We don’t do well like this and I can’t handle anymore shit tonight.” Arrick turns and sees me crying openly. I can feel the tears dripping off my face, broken in so many stupid ways, not knowing why I even need him to stay with me, and he falters. Coming back to me he lifts his hands and starts wiping my face, still closed off but softening a little, losing the edgy ice from his eyes.

“Don’t. Look, let’s just go… We’ll go to bed and deal with the fall out when we’re sober. Neither of us work when we’re like this, Sophie. This is turning into the shittiest night ever, and I want it to end.” He pulls me into his body and slides his arm around me protectively; even being an asshole, he is still trying to be my good guy and I waiver a little, even if I am still so heart achingly mad at him.

I sway in his arms trying to fight him still, wanting his presence but not his touch, exhausted and done. So many emotions ripping through me and I want to go home. Tears slipping freely, so that when he starts guiding me to the quiet hall, I don’t fight him anymore. I want him to make this feel better, to take away the gut-wrenching pain he has caused in my heart, for it to go away. I want so badly to cuddle him, yet I also don’t. I’m too drunk, too emotional, and being stupid about this. I need to go home and sleep.

“Let me go, I can walk. I don’t need you touching me. I don’t want you touching me.” I try for one more attempt to get loose from him, but he turns me into him more, as I try to get free. He says nothing just keeps me walking until we get out to the corridor, to the cloakroom to get our jackets. He lets me go as he fishes for our tickets and goes off to collect them, leaves me standing there. It’s almost empty out here as it’s still early and not many people are leaving. I stay rooted to the spot, wiping my eyes and breathing myself back to calm.

“Toddling off home for some incestual sex to keep your man, are we? Never took him for the perverted type.” The bitchy voice makes me glance up, to see Miranda carrying coats too, heading towards the little frail drunken mess slumped in a corner, that I realize is Natasha. She straightens up when she sees me, and wanders over to her friend, eyes glued on me viciously. Wiping her make up smeared face, her eyes passing me to Arrick in the background and starts to try and right herself. She is so obvious it’s pathetic.

“Look, just go away okay. I don’t know you and I don’t need this. What does it solve? You’re not going to make him change his mind. He is with me and that’s how it’s going to stay.” I snap; drunkenly swaying on my shoes and wishing he would hurry back and deal with this foul-mouthed bitch. I can only hold my temper so long and now the way I’m feeling, I might stab her in the face with my shoe. I glare at both, brimming hostility.

“I trusted you.” Natasha sobs at me, giving me an evil look and grabbing her coat from her friend to hold in her arms; squeezing the life out of it, still acting like the poor innocent victim, except, unlike the night in the bathroom, I no longer care. She followed him to Miami, to do God knows what and she can go fuck herself for all I care. I have zero remorse where she is concerned anymore and see this as a war between two women now. Not about to lay down and let some bitch try and take him from me.

“I’m sorry… What else can I say. We both love him…but he chose me. I’m who he’s happy with and you need to accept it.” I lift my hands in defeat, cornered and defensive, so not able to deal with this and already a mess from fighting with him. My skins prickling, and my anger is barely holding it together. I am trying to be mature, trying to do what he would want me to even if I currently hate him.

Be a grown up, turn the other cheek, be mature, show everyone you’re not a little spoiled kid anymore.

“Did he? Pretty sure he stayed with me…. Then when I couldn’t forgive him, he went looking for his second option.” Natasha spits cruelly and I don’t know if it’s what she says, or the sudden change in her that makes me screw up my face in disbelief. Reminding me of her behavior in the bowling alley bathroom. Like a sucker punch of realization that it was not a one off.

“Who are you? Were you always this person hiding in the depths huh? … Some nasty manipulative bitch that pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes? All sweetness and love, yet the claws are certainly coming out now, aren’t they?” my body bristles as both girls sneer at me. Miranda looks about ready to spit at me with an expression of utter disgust on her face. Natasha has an air of smug hostility about with her narrowed eyes, and I see it clearly, it’s almost always been an act.

“Aww bless, she thinks she can act like an adult and get into a grown-up argument. Go find your play pen, button. Leave the big people to sort things out between them.” Miranda laughs at me, coming forward aggressively and some guy saunters in behind her.

“Ready to go?” He slides his hand around Natasha and eyes me up sleazily. His slimy slow crawl up my body makes me instantly hate him. Another perverted asshole with a ticket to make women’s skin crawl.

Classy man you have there, Tasha.

“Whatever. I am above this; have a nice night.” I turn to walk off, trying to do the right thing for once and lift my chin up high, and come face to face with Arrick coming in behind me. Eyes immediately on the group behind me and clearly not happy, he looks like rage personified.

“What the fuck did you say to her?” He snaps at Miranda; the Carrero glare on full force and he slides my jacket around me and moves me aside robotically, putting himself between us, and stares her down aggressively. Even I know that sober Arrick would have dismissed this and walked off, leaving the cool side of him to counteract this heated conversation; but drunk Arrick is in confrontational and emotionally charged mode.

“Don’t even act surprised that we’re all wondering about your Pedo tendencies, Arry, Love… Is she even potty trained?” Miranda laughs coldly, flicking her hair in a sassy way and throws her eyes at Natasha, who seems to have reverted to coy and feeble in his presence. The little victim doe eyed act that he’s always been a sucker for. I can’t believe what I’m seeing right now.

Manipulative little cow.

“Fuck off Miranda, this is getting seriously old. Do you have no control over your mouthy mate, Tasha?” He throws a glare her way and Natasha turns on the tears, whimpering pathetically and I have the urge to rip her hair off now. I don’t think I have felt this much consuming hatred since I faced my father in a court room at sixteen.

“She cares about me; way more than you obviously do. Least I know I can count on her to be there for me. Where have you been lately?” She sobs and pushes in against him, placing a hand on his arm that gets me riled up and I grab it and push it off again. I catch the icy frown Arrick slants my way and my temper ignites. Biting on my own lip to curb the urge to curse him out.

“Don’t start with the emotional blackmail. How many guys stay in touch with their ex to make sure their okay? How many would keep dealing with stuff for you and help you out with your dad’s hospital bills huh? I’m trying to care, Natasha, but I’m also trying to live my life with Sophie.” He stands his ground, removes her fingers when they return to his arm and knocks them away. I know I’m raging at him still, but a little smug eyebrow raise hits my face at that. I seriously want to ‘Hah!’ at her.

“By pushing me out… Avoiding my calls, ignoring me when I fly hundreds of miles to see you?” She cries, sobs broken by gasps and a great little act of having an emotional breakdown. I eyes roll and push down the one hundred and ninety-nine reasons I should punch her in the throat right now.

“Stop stalking him then… Maybe he would care more if you gave us fucking breathing space. For the love of God!” I snap impulsively, instantly regretting the outburst when I get a cold glare from Arry, still trying to be commander and chief in this little drama. I glare right fucking back.

“Sophie stay out of this, I’m handling it. Go over there.” He points of to one corner bossily and riles my temper, stubborn side connecting, sadness replaced with that side of me that he knows better than to activate. He should know better than to be an asshole to me and then think he can tell me what to do.

“Don’t fucking tell me to go away. For her.” I snap at him angrily, eyes locked on one another in a fierce battle and neither will back down. I’m losing the tearful side and all fight is up in here, brimming like a cyclone in need of release.

“That’s not what I’m doing. I need you to walk away, so everyone can stop being assholes, and we can all go the fuck home.” He grinds through clenched teeth and that brow lowers dangerously; he is so on the edge of an all-out snap, and even I experience a little lull in bravado.

“What’s the matter. Worried I may strip naked and try and seduce him the minute your backs turned. Oh wait. That was you?” Natasha spits at me from her standpoint. Losing the act while his back is turned and forgetting herself for a moment. Hand on hip, bitchy tone, and bitchier face.

“Go fuck yourself. He clearly wasn’t all that in love with you if he ended up with me.” I snap right back, pushing past him to face her, but his arm blocks me and wraps his other around my waist, hauling me in front of him and keeping me tight by the shoulders in a bid to control me. Natasha walks sideways to face me still, putting herself back in my face, dismissing his presence entirely and I guess it’s because she is either really riled, or she realizes that he isn’t all that enamored with pathetic and soft doe-eyed brunettes, after all. He is choosing to wrap his arm around the sassy, ‘I will beat you to death with your own bag’, blonde.”

“Maybe he just knows a whore when he sees one.” She sneers at me, up and down like I’m some sort of tramp, yet she’s the one dressed in a cheap hooker dress and stripper heels that look like they came from a Walmart reject bin.

I slap her hard across the face, impulsively; enraged by how close that sneering bitches is to mine, when she leans in to me, breathing almost in my face, and I yelp when a male hand grasps my wrist over her recoiling body.

“What the fuck you bitch?” The stranger has appeared behind her, holding her with one arm and my wrist in the other. In a weird couple standoff.

Arrick moves in a flash, I don’t see it or manage to get my head around what happens, just that I am let loose and he’s on the other side of me in the blink of an eye. My hand released and has the guy by the throat pushing him backwards into a pillar at speed and looking pretty much like he’s going to rip his head off. He is in fight mode, body poised to take on an opponent and has the death grip of a terminator going on.

“Don’t ever fucking touch her. Ever! No one ever gets to touch her.” He snarls, terrifyingly cold, sinister even. He looks scarily dangerous, and even I don’t know how to react to this version of him; the guy doesn’t know how to react either and seems to go limp as Natasha turns into a screaming banshee and hurts my head with her instant wailing.

“Stop it! Stop it! Let him go.” She grabs Arry’s arm and starts hauling at him, sobbing as Arrick drops him back on his own feet and tries to shrug her off. Eyes still piercing the other man’s sheepish face as he recoils from the terrifying, crazy guy with an insanely strong arm. My temper explodes in my chest as she starts hauling him towards her, trying to get him to cuddle her, pulling his arms and body to her in a bid to get him away from the other male, and sobbing against him pathetically. Miranda starts fussing over the guy and glaring icily at Arrick.

“Nice Arrick, fucking well mature. Love how your little girl makes you behave.” Miranda throws his way, hauling the man off to one side to get away, still staring over and muttering viciously. She ushers his shell-shocked face to one side and gives us distance.

“She’s poison to you. She’s toxic, Arrick. Don’t you see how much you’re changing? She has you blind to it; come back to me. I still love you and I can forgive all of this if you come back to me. We can make this work again. I know you still love me too.” Natasha is wrapping herself around him, riling me to fever pitch rage that my jealous insane side cannot handle. I can’t take it anymore. What was numb shock at the fast reflex of his maneuver, is now raging fire as I literally haul her off him by the hair and drag her backwards hard, literally flying to claw her head off.

“Stop touching him, he’s not yours anymore.” I yell at her, pulling her so fast she stumbles backwards into me and I resort to shoving her away hard. Arry grabs hold of me quickly, disentangling me from her and leaving me with a handful of curly brown hair as she screams, hauling me to him to calm the violent outburst.

I want to pound her into the floor with the amount of jealous rage coursing through me. It feels like I have literally snapped and every ounce of hurt, heartbreak and insecurity that has built in me for weeks, is pouring out in one massive black release of psychotic behavior.

Inside, deep down, that inner fury child who never quite learned how to control the hell cat inside of her, lets loose. I try and rip at her, claw and squirm, kicking out in a bid to vent every ounce of rage and hatred at the one thing who has been fucking my head for weeks. I hate her so much I can taste it. Consumed by some inner demon that only sees red and rage and a longing to smash her face in.

Arrick starts grappling with my body, trying to catch the limbs that break free and lash out at her, bucking and fighting him harder than I have ever fought anyone in my life.

“Sophie calm the fuck down. Natasha, NO, I DON’T!!!…Go home! Everyone go the fuck away and let me take my girlfriend home.” Arry’s trying to haul my fighting body with him, struggling to hold me, breathing heavily in my ear as he tries to lift me from my feet and restrain me. I kick and lash out to reach her, but she keeps sneering at me and making me a thousand times more murderous.

“This is what you want? Some crazy uncontrollable brat, who makes you act the same? …. Really excellent choice huh? Good luck with having a normal life with her. You really downgraded from me, and your life is always going to be like this if you stay with her.” She’s lost the air of vulnerability, and it’s all becoming clear now; the way she can switch it on and off like a tap. She is manipulative and I am only just seeing it. Years of pulling the wool over his eyes, getting in his head.

I lash out again, trying so hard to kick at her face, almost getting my leg that high, and heels missing her skull by a fraction, but Arrick literally wraps his arms around my shoulders, pinning my arms down and lifts me to the side away from her.

He’s really struggling to control me and sending me off the charts with restraining me. It’s one thing I have never been able to handle, as I fight him and wriggle, getting more and more panicked that I can’t get loose from his tight hold on my upper body. I turn my efforts on fighting him instead, all rage directed his way. Freaking out at having my arms pinned down, anxiety and black rage consuming me to get free.

“I made my choice, now let me live with it. Just go away.” Arrick yells at her and her face crumbles, tears pouring down her cheeks, but he no longer cares; he’s too busy trying to reign me in while making me worse. He swears under his breath as I buck and twist, throw myself into him so that he’s knocked back a step, but still doesn’t let me go. Ignores my cursing and shouting at him.

“Let me fucking go!” I scream, using my legs to try and push against his, in a bid to hurt him enough to let my arms loose, so I can stop.

He grips tighter, almost disabling my ability to breathe and starts maneuvering me to the main doors.

“Sophie, fucking stop it.” He jerks me hard, shuddering my mouth to snap shut and I bite my own lip, flinching as pain shoots through my face. It stuns me into a moment of submission that sees him let me go, and I realize there’s a few feet between us all now, and Miranda starts waving and clapping her hands in sarcasm from far behind. I turn on him, slap him in the chest, shove and hit at him in shocked frustration, as he bats me off, and gets pissed as hell at me for the backlash.

“Take her home to bed, like a good big brother, help tuck her into her little cot. Hellish little fucking psycho.” Miranda calls out and attracts all my venom away from his defensive maneuvers instead. I pull off my shoe in a bid to throw it at her face, but Arrick grabs it and my wrist, twisting it out of my hand and yanking me with him, taking it from me.

“Go fuck yourself.” I scream at her, and him. I don’t even know anymore. Blinded by my inner thoughts and feelings, tears are once again pouring down my face and I have no idea when they even started. Chest caving in, heart aching so much I think I may die. I’m a sobbing mess of sniffing and tears and a torrent of verbal curse words.

“For fucks sake. Will you quit it!” He hauls me after him, less than gently and ignores my tugging and twisting of his hand to get free. He’s hauling me by one arm, like a kid taking an epic freak out.

“Let me go.” I scream at him, tugging at his harsh biting grip on my wrist, seeing my skin turn red at where he is holding me, and digging my fingernails under his to claw loose.

“Let me fucking go.” I try to hop while I reach for my other shoe as a weapon, but he disables that too, taking it from me as soon as I get it in my hand and holds both by the heels away from me, still pulling me along as I dig bare feet into the ground to try and stop him. Both my hands held in one of his, as he literally drags me with him and doesn’t even falter. I hate him with so much venom in this moment, I don’t want to be with him. I want him to let me go, to leave me alone.

Stop fucking touching me.