I knew he was staring at me. Well, I guess he wasn’t actually staring at me…he
was staring at it. I could
feel his eyes boring a hole into the black and blue bulge protruding from the
side of my face. It probably
didn’t help the situation that I had three broken ribs and couldn’t sit up
straight. I must have looked like someone tried to kill me.
“Josh, quit staring at me! It’s annoying as hell,” I said, turning my face
away so he couldn’t see the bruise anymore.
He stood up and shook his head as he stormed out of the studio, slamming the door behind him.
“Josh!” I called through the closed door. “Fuck.”
I reached up and gingerly fingered the bump
underneath my eye, wincing in pain.
Out of the corner of my good eye, I saw the door swing open as JC marched back
into the studio. He tossed a bag of
ice into my lap and it landed with a cold thud.
“Here,” he said flatly. “Put
some ice on that. You look like shit, and management won’t be too happy if you
show up to the photo shoot with a bruised face on top of your broken ribs.
You’re thier golden boy, remember?”
“Shut up, Josh,” I muttered, pressing the cool bag to my face with a sigh. I
didn’t understand what he was so angry about anyway. I had a black eye. So
what? Shit happens.
I supposed it was how I got the black eye that pissed him off…
“I’m leaving, Ryan.”
“Fuck that you are. Get over here.”
“No, I said I have to go. I’ve got a lot of shit do to tomorrow. Recording
with JC, the photo shoot…”
”Fuck JC He can wait. You’re staying.”
“Ryan, no.”
He grabbed Justin’s arm roughly, pulling him backwards and spinning him around.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Justin struggled to get away, but that just upset Ryan even more. “Ryan,
you’re hurting me!”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word, Justin.”
”Ryan..”
“Photo shoot tomorrow, Justin? I
don’t think so.” Justin’s
head slammed against the wall as Ryan’s fist made contact with his face. He could taste the blood on his lips as he slumped to the
floor.
“Ryan..” he whispered pleadingly. Pain
shot through his body as Ryan kicked him in ribs over and over.
I shook the memory away and blinked away hot tears. Yeah…that was probably why JC was pissed.
JC was the only one who knew that Ryan hit me. The first time it happened, I
came home with a bloody nose. I hadn’t expected anyone to be up, but JC was.
The moment I looked at him, he knew,
and he’d spent the entire night holding me as I cried and tried to
make excuses for what had happened.
“You can’t go back to him, Justin,” he’d said. “You can’t let him hurt you like this.”
“I love him, Josh…” I’d said. “He
didn’t mean to do it. He was drunk, and I pissed him off. It’s my fault.”
And until last night, I still believed that. I believed that every time Ryan hit
me, it was my fault. That I’d provoked it somehow, that I deserved it. And
every time I came home with a black eye or sore ribs or a bloody lip, I gave JC
the same excuses.
“Jace?” I said softly, spinning
my chair around to face him. He
looked angry, and I guess I couldn’t blame him.
“Huh?”
“I…”
“You know what, Justin? I don’t want to hear it,” JC said with disgust,
once again leaving me alone in the studio.
Guess he just got tired listening to my stupid excuses.