Page 71 of Twisted Fate

“Don’t touch me. I meant it when I said fuck you. Stay the fuck away from me.”

Anger filled his eyes again as the wall slammed down to remind me of the asshole he really was.

He yanked the door open, slamming it behind him as he left to show me just how mad he was.

Childish bastard.

It sounded like a gun going off in my head as the silence hit, and I finally glanced around the room at the mess.

I started picking the glass up, not realizing the door had opened until a hand rested on my shoulder.

I glanced up to find Slash behind me with concern on his face, even more so when he noticed the blood down my face.

“Hey, you okay?”

“I’m fine. Do you have a dustpan? I…”

He waved me off and helped me to my feet.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get one of the guys to sort it out. C’mon, I’ll find you something to clean your face up. Did he punch you, or what?”

“He pushed me away and I hit the wall. I’m fine, it’s not broken.”

“Alright, I’ll still find you an ice pack to stop the swelling,” he tsked, making me wince as his hand rested on my back and pain shot through me.

A serious expression crossed his face as he looked me up and down.

“What else hurts?”

“Slash, I’m fine,” I argued, but the sharp pain in my back started throbbing more as the adrenaline from the fight faded away.

Skeeter and I were totally going to kill each other one day.

“What. Fucking. Hurts?” He dragged out firmly, giving me no choice.

I was tired of fighting with people, so I sighed in defeat.

“My back and my shoulder.”

“Give me a look,” he asked gently, turning me to lift the back of my shirt, a curse leaving him after a second.

His hand skimmed over my tender skin, causing me to wince again as he sighed.

“Let me sort you out. C’mon.”

“The fuck does that mean?” I asked wearily, the fight with Skeeter finally taking it out of me.

I wanted a hot bath and a goddamn nap.

“It means you’re bleeding,” he muttered, leading me into the main room and over to the sink by the bar.

Skeeter was gone, so I relaxed and sat on the chair that Slash placed in front of me.

He lifted the back of my shirt again and I angrily yanked it over my head, ignoring the fact that the other Psychos were in the room.

“Want me to clear the guys out? I need to unlatch your bra to clean it properly, and…”

“I don’t give a shit, Slash. I really fucking don’t,” I snapped, feeling bad for taking it out on him.