Good Girls Bad Guys (A Ronnie Radke Fanfiction)

Another Discovery

*Katrina*

I look at Ronnie, panic building inside me. I can't lie... Not again... I already feel horrible... But I have to.

"It's nothing, really," I tell him with a smile. "Just a cramp, is all."

"Oh, um..." He looks embarrassed. "Okay." Not wanting to press the subject of periods and cramps further, he circles his arm around my waist again. I try my best to keep from wincing in pain, and it works; Ronnie doesn't notice.

We return to our position on the couch; me on his lap, and Derek and CC sitting next to us. I try to keep my poker face on, but it's hard, because every time I move it's like a fresh kick.

Sammi takes notice and looks at me, concerned, and I mouth to her, 'Cramps.' She nods and smiles sympathetically, and returns her attention to Batman.

After the third Batman movie and a ton of snacks, we start passing out. Most everyone is sprawled on the floor or on a couch, and a few couples had made their way into the bedrooms.

Ronnie and I went into his room, and laid down on the bed. After laying there a few minutes, we both quickly fall asleep.

*Ronnie*

I wake to find sunlight pouring in my room. I feel someone shift, and I quickly look down, surprised, but then I remember yesterday.

Katrina Clarity Ryder. My beautiful girl.

Well, sort of. I never technically asked her to be mine, but still. Who cares? It's implied - hands off.

I brush a stray hair off of her porcelain face, and move my hand around to rub her back. She furrows her brow in what looks like pain and squirms. I move my hand, and she stops.

Huh, I think. Weird...

Out of nowhere, I suddenly think, She lied to you. I try to ponder about what, but I can't think of anything.

Then I remember - how she'd winced away when I put my arm around her, how she'd said she was okay but there was pain in her eyes. "It's just cramps," She told me.

I can't help but think, She lied, she lied, she lied. I shake my head. Why would she lie to me?

I put my hand on her hip and she furrows her brow again, squirming. In doing so, a little bit of her black FIR t shirt comes up, revealing some of her stomach.

But it's not the same beautiful, smooth, creamy porcelain as is the rest of her body.

It's purple, blue, and black. Bruised, to holy hell.

I gently pull up her shirt, revealing more bruises, all over her chest, stomach, and back. Different shades of blue, black, purple, pink and yellow, but all connected.

It looks like it goes down onto her legs, too, but I decide it would be too much to pull her pants down, so I just get up and stand by the wall, punching a hole in it then leaning my head against it and crying.