rain. |h.s|

24

I almost trip over my own feet while running to the opposite side of the couch. I just can't do this again. I can't let him pin me down and slide down my pants, I can't let him kiss me like that again, I just can't relive it again.

Suddenly he puts one foot on the couch and starts climbing to where I am.

"I was drunk that night Noelle! I wasn't thinking straight!"

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment to acknowledge the random tears streaming down my face. I spin on my heel and start shuffling towards the kitchen island. I yank a knife out of the knife block and turn back to him with the most psychotic look in my eyes. I can feel my face turning red and my tears start to double. These aren't sad tears, they're angry tears. I'm angry about what he did. If stabbing this knife in his arm is what will keep him from coming any closer to me, so be it.

"Stay the fuck back!" I scream at him as he realizes what's in my hand.

He backs up by large amounts this time, his palms up in the air.

"Okay, okay, calm down. I just want to talk." His voice lowers.

"No! I don't want to fucking talk to you!" My lip twitches when a tear reaches it.

"I'm sorry. I'm in no position to ask you anything." His foot gets caught in an island chair and causes it to fall on its side.

"Yeah, you got that right. How did you find me?" I continue advancing on him with the kitchen knife in my hand while he keeps backing up.

"Please just put the knife down." He's still extremely fucking calm.

I take a deep breath and scream in his face again, "Answer my god damn question!"

I lead him all the way back to the couch, where he is forced to sit down while I keep the knife pointed at him. My body is all sweaty and red through all the screaming and crying.

"I... I had help."

"From who?" My voice stays stern as another tear rolls down my cheek.

He doesn't say anything. He drops his head to his feet and occasionally looks back up.

"When I ask questions," I grab a handful of his greasy hair in my hand and pull it so he's looking at me. "You answer."

I press the knife against his throat and repeat my question. "From... who?"

It takes every fiber in my body to not puncture this knife through his fucking throat. I'm still very much crying, but I can't help it. I never thought I would have to see his face again.

He mumbles something but it's barely audible through his crying.

"Stop fucking crying. You wanna cry? I can give you a real reason to cry when I rip your balls out." I push the knife closer to his throat.

He whimpers as I do so, salty water falling out my eyes as well. I want to say I'm kind of scared because I am. But I don't know how to describe what is going on right now. We took all the precautions to make sure no shithead from Lethal finds me. Or should I say us?

I lower the knife, giving him the opportunity to wipe his tears. My heart jumps when he grabs me by my arm and uses it to stand up. He's at my level and both his fingers are clenching into my sweatshirt.

"Please, please forgive me, Noelle. You have no clue how sorry I am." His hands are harder to get off now because of how much force he's using.

He's pushing me backwards and eventually my back hits a wall.

"Let me go!" I struggle under his grip, fear and anger washing over me.

"You have to let me apologize!" His hands travel to my shoulders, where he holds me firm against the wall.