Drop Dead | Sam Fender

Chapter Ninety Two

"I know, kidda," he sighed. "I can't imagine the past year has been easy for yer either but maybe ya need to look at getting some help. Professionally."

My face flushed in embarrassment at Jamie's suggestion. Me? Go and see a therapist? How fucking pathetic did that sound? "Yeah, mebbies," I mumbled.

"Harriet has really helped Rory... with everything," he continued. I nodded wordlessly. He was silent for a few moments, the conflict raging in his eyes. "Let this be your only warning," he spoke lowly as he pushed himself up from the table and moved nearer to me, fisting the material of my top in his hand and pulling me close. "If you ever lay a finger on my daughter again, I will fuckin' end yer. We clear?"

"Yes, sir," I gulped, nodding my head eagerly.

"Great," he replied with a sickly sweet smile. He released me from his grip and patted my shoulder, not speaking another word as he left the kitchen. The adrenaline was flowing freely around my body as he offered his goodbye to my mother, the faint sound of the front door shutting echoing around the small flat.

Aurora

I felt sick. Physically sick. Especially after my dad found out about the events of the night previous. I hadn't meant for him to find out. In a moment of stupidity, I had absentmindedly taken off my jacket in front of him, revealing my bruised arm. He was absolutely livid, not sticking around to hear my desperate pleas not to hurt my boyfriend.

He didn't tell me what happened when he came back either, which only exacerbated my worry about Sam. It had been hours since my dad had returned and I still had yet to hear from Sam. I hadn't heard from Harlow either, which was suspicious. Usually, she would have made a trip around to see me and Sam by now.

My heart lurched when the doorbell rang, my brain not even processing the sound as my feet raced down the stairs to open the door.

"Sam," I cried in relief, crashing into his chest and curling my arms around his waist.

"Hi," he whispered. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around me, holding me tightly as though I would disappear if he let go. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm so sorry. It'll never happen again, I promise yer. I feel fuckin' awful."

"It's alreet," I assured him as my tears soaked his t-shirt.

"No, it's not," he told me, his words filled with shame. "It's not. I shouldn't have grabbed yer, I got jealous and I lost my temper but it's never gan happen again. I promise."

"Ya didn't mean to hurt me, yer just didn't realise, s'all," I mumbled as we parted reluctantly. I let out a gasp as my gaze fell on his face, which adorned a swollen nose, a bruised eye and a thick lip. His swollen nose was courtesy of Dean, possibly his black eye too, but the thick lip was a new addition. "Shit, Sam."

"It's nowt," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Did my dad do this?" I demanded, lifting his chin with my index finger and tracing his lip with my thumb causing him to wince in pain. "Fuck, sorry."

"No," he assured me. "I did get a few threats but... this was all Harlow."

Of course, it was Harlow. I didn't know why I was expecting anything else. "I'm sorry," I whispered apologetically, the frown on my face deepening.

"It's not your fault," he told me with a soft smile. "Not like I don't deserve it."

"Don't say that," I pleaded.

"It's true," he snorted humourlessly.

Silence engulfed the two of us as we desperately tried to find the words to communicate our feelings but emotions were running high and neither of us knew what to say.

"Did... did yer wanna come in?" I asked hopefully.

"No, no," he replied quickly.

My shoulders dropped in deflation. "Oh."

"Not like- I want to!" he stammered. "I-I... I just don't think it's the best idea reet now. Probably best I stay away for a bit."

"Please, don't," I begged him, reaching out to grab his hand. "I don't want yer to stay away."

"Rory," he sighed.

"No," I spoke firmly. "I'm not accepting that. Yer wanna make it up to me then you've got to be here!"

He swallowed thickly. "Obviously," he agreed hesitantly.

"Get in here," I told him softly, tugging him into the hallway.

"Okay," he whispered, his tone unsure but I could tell he was eager to make me happy. By any means possible.