Gone

Chapter 11 [Juliana] Promise Not to Tell *

“Over here,” he stated, as a small light to a lantern turned on a few feet in front of me.

There was a small table and I spotted Blaze sitting on a little couch against the black wall. “Okay,” I quietly whispered, still staring at him.

His face was a mess, bloody, and bruised, but he was still so good looking. “I can't believe this is happening to me,” he softly let out, dropping his gaze to the ground as I made my way silently by the table, sitting down next to him, very close.

“I know,” I agreed.

“I can't f*king believe this,” he groaned, sounding like he wanted to murder someone. “I can't--”

“Shh,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck and tightly holding onto him. “It's alright.”

“No it's not,” he argued, hugging me back, with so much strength that it almost hurt.

“Yes it is,” I cautiously stated. “Everything will be okay...”

“I just stabbed my dad,” he rushed out, as I pulled back and stared into his watered eyes.

“Did he, did he hit you?” I struggled to get out.

He finally nodded. “Yeah,” he honestly answered.

“Oh my god,” I said, trying my hardest not to cry. “I'm so sor--”

“Don't be sorry,” he quickly rushed out, as I gently held his face and leaned forward to lightly kiss him. I didn't care about the dried up blood against his lower lip.

Then I slowly pulled back and he stared at me with confused eyes. “I'm sorry, Blaze,” I told him.

“I told you not to be sorry...”

“How often... oh god,” I said, finally starting to cry. “Oh my god...”

“Please don't--” he stopped. “Don't cry.”

“Is that how you got your bruises? Is that where they came from?”

“What?” he asked, shaking his head and slightly frowning. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“The night when I asked you where you got your cut and black eye from,” I eventually was able to speak. “Did you not answer me because...” I stopped.

“Because my dad was the one who gave them both to me,” he finally answered. 

“Blaze,” I said, holding my breath. “I didn't have any idea.”

“Nobody does, besides my friends, and my mom.” He stared down at the ground again, the light to the lantern making his eyes look glossy.

“How often does this happen to you?” I whispered, him still not daring to look back into my worried eyes.

“Like... Every day,” he stated. "I don't know Julie."

I quickly took his hand and I gently kissed it, not caring about the dried up blood on most of his fingers and palm as well. “I'm sorry,” I said, a few tears escaping. I couldn't help it.

“No, I'm sorry,” he told me. “For bringing you to my house when I knew something like that was bound to happen...”

“But I begged you,” I frowned, him looking back down at me and shaking his head.

“It's not your fault,” Blaze quietly said. “It's his. He's an alcoholic and hits me when he's mad. It's just as simple as that.”

“Simple?” I choked out, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at me again.