Contradiction by Easy Ash (beach books txt) 📕

harassment didn't start until the last year. It was as if he was getting rid of me already and as if that's why he felt me up. I had an attitude and snapped at him when I felt like it. Bit that doesn't mean I needed to experience this. I did go to the cops and I consulted with a lawyer, but money and power contro-"

 

I feel a presence behind me, quickly I look away from my phone and behind me. Lex. He had a stupid ass "forgive me" look on his face, as if he didn't just scare the shit out of me. I turn away and watch the street, spotting an Uber pulling up to the curb before me. "I'm leaving." I stand, not caring to look back at him. Jim opened the door facing me from the other side of the back seat. His eyes fell on Lex, his complexion turning red his fists balling. "Don't." I say to him. "JIM!"

 

But Jim gets out of the car, steaming pass me....if I could feel temperatures I'd say his was boiling. I felt heavy testosterone fill the air. Fuck! Both of them were hurt and angry. Spiteful and pumped up. Get in between them...now! But my foot stay put. I watch, frozen in shock as they begin to fight. Landing blows and body shots to each other, slamming against the ground in a heated grunt craze. People around stare at them as they brawl. I make to shout but my mouth makes no noise. Even when blood is drawn. A bloody mouth to Jim. A broken nose to Lex. Muscle on muscle. Nonsense...I need to break them up! Move...stop standing here!! What's wrong with me??!! 

THIRTY EIGHT: Keen

 

 

I watch the bleeding, tussling guys roll around on the ground, half tempted to watch it for longer than it went on for. A few pedestrians intervened, mostly men. Tearing them apart from one another. I stand frozen. Why is this happening!

 

"Stay the fuck away from her!" Jim hissed as bleed spilled from his mouth...from a badly bruised lip. I felt the heat radiating off of his...half scared to even be near him. What the hell is wrong with men?! Violence doesn't always solve shit! I would have said that but my voice was lost. I felt weak. Shallow. Useless. I felt like the stereotypical woman. Have guys fight over me and do nothing...check. Shit.

 

I didn't remember getting into the back seat of the uber with Jim. My eyes watch the road move along for a bit, then they land on Jim. Who was trying so hard not to wince from his lip. "Try not to talk." I say lowly.

 

"Why were you with him?" He disobeys my suggestion, and winces in agony. 

 

"Let's just forget it okay, it's been a long day."

 

"Where to.?" The driver asks awkwardly...and with a bit of sarcasm. As if he was thinking: oh this is completely normal. 

 

"Northeastern university."

 

"My place." 

 

We both say in union. I shake my head and give a harsh laugh. "I just told you it's been a long day, I don't want to talk about it."

 

"Oh, and you think your roommates won't bring it up? You might as well face it." His blue eyes squinted. "I heard the news, Mr. Pierce is everywhere, why didn't you tell me you were going to do this? Why haven't you came out yet?"

 

I take a long deep breath, trying my best not to sound too cold. "Because it's none of your business."

 

"But you called me..." He said blankly. Jim was now using one corner of his mouth to talk, much like a ventriloquism speaking for a puppet. "So it is my business now." 

 

"I'll get a hotel."

 

"The hell you will! We're going to 4689 Martin Luther King Jr Way." The driver nodded at Jim's command.

 

"No...I'm speaking for myself, I'm getting a room. You can go home and ice that, that's the last I'm saying on it!" 

 

Jim took a long time watching me, studying my eyes, my forehead, my hands, which were shaking with rage. What does he see? Weakness? Foolishness in my character? A girl needing help? I gaze back at him intently, matching his judgmental stare. I stop my hands from shaking. "You're not telling me something...what are you hiding?" He asked almost in a whisper to himself. 

 

"I'm tired...I need space."

 

"You shouldn't be by yourself, not after confessing that you were-" he cut off the sentence, glancing at the driver who was easedropping on the sly, his eyes darted from the rear view mirror and to his window, eyeing a red car beside us as he slowed for a red light. "After what you told me, you need help." 

 

I boiled, feeling my skin light up, feeling my nostrils flare. I lost my cool. Nothing but loud rage worked my voice now. "I DONT NEED ANY HELP, ESPECIALLY NOT FROM YOU, IVE BEEN DEALING WITH MY CRISIS WELL ENOUGH WITHOUT HELP FROM IMPULSIVE, BULL HEADED, DICK MEASURING LITTLE BOYS!!!!" I hiss out a deep breath, huffing. My eyes slice into Jim, who is unfazed by my outburst.

 

He was deadly calm as he spoke. "If I have to carry you out this car...I will." 

THIRTY NINE: Lucky

 

 

LEX 

 

I didn't allow myself to think about Lizzie, to think about death, or Amanda. I let my busted nose take over. Let the pain control my present self. Feel this instead. Nothing else. I pace the hotel room. Pain...that's it. How was I this stupid?! How the fuck am I just getting this through my head?!! Pain...and lots of it. I exit the hotel, out pass the lobby, and walk of the door. Not caring to stop and listen to the receptionist who had called the cops. 

 

The buzz of downtown blurred around me. Where will he be right now...protected in a safe house, paying people to stay quiet. Where? My feet pound the ground. I cross streets of moving cars, not caring. Not scared. A strange feeling is complete restfulness taking over me as cars zigzagged and honked, angry that l didn't have the light. Fuck them. A voice in my head said. Think of a plan instead. It's time to kill Bill. Think. Where would the shit bag be? Tall skyscrapers close  in on me as I turn a corner. My head tilts upwards and I stop. Watching the glass of the fancy building glisten. Would he be at work? I press on walking. Bumping into people who looked like nothing to me because I blocked them out. 

 

No...the media is on his ass, that's the last place he'll go, but then again. I walked to the building of Strive Treat, mostly taking ally way short cuts, keeping my hands in my pockets if any tired me. I never killed anyone, but things are different now, innocence doesn't exist. I turn the ally, across the street from me is the building. I associate it with Bill, seeing it as his reward for abuse and murderous ways. His privilege. His narcissistic power. I stroll to the hunk of junk. Not having the right of way of the street...again. I tried opening the door. But it was locked. I peer over at the parking lot. My tunnel vision didn't spot that no cars were here. Hmm...the place was probably shit down. Figures. Of course it's not that easy finding the demon. 

 

I take a pit stop. Standing in front of the doors and pondering. He hired hitman meaning he was hiding far from here. The cops haven't caught him yet. There's a warrant out for his arrest. "There has to..." I suck in a deep breath, realizing exactly where he would be, where he would sneak off to. Lizzie. No. I can't go there! STOP BEING A BITCH!! GOOO! No, I can't see her like that! My mind fought a battle but my body lead the way. Siding against me.

 

To the funeral, I go. I wait in the lobby. The receptionist speaks with an elderly couple for a bit. I tap my fingers and close my eyes:

 

GUNSHOTS 

 

Lizzie standing before her bed, holding her stomach; redness covering her hands and dripping down her night gown.

 

I stared down at her body. At her eyes that rolled to the back of her head. Crying. Wailing out. "NOOOO!!!" I drop my head onto Lizzie's whimpering. Nooo. No. Wake up.

 

"Excuse me, sir, how can I help you?" 

 

My eyes shoot open and land on a dark haired woman. I stand quickly and walk to the desk. Leaning against it. "I'm here to see..to see." My voice shakes along with my stomach. I feel faint. Sickly. "To see Lizzie Pierce." I go pale. My face goes to stone. Expressionless. 

 

"Oh, I thought you would have been informed by now, we did call. Your sister has been buried, has been for days now. I can give you the address. Your father asked to call him when you show. Shall I do that?"

 

"Yes." I say automatically. The receptionist nods then picks up a phone beside her. So he's ready, huh? Well so am I.

 

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Publication Date: 05-28-2019

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