♥ Chapter Six ♥ [Picture of Max]

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The kiss was nice. Real nice. I mean, it wasn't all that. Okay I'm lying. It was perfect. His lips were soft and smooth and sweet...so yeah. Perfect.

That didn't stop me from pushing him away and crying into my hands again. I am such a hypocrite. How could I go and call Anthony a world class jerk and then kiss him. Pathetic yeah, I get it.

Once I stopped crying again, Anthony gave me a small smile. "Wanna watch a movie?"

That was how we ended up in his king-sized bed, watching House of Wax. My favorite scary movie of all time. Seriously.

"Oh my God, he's going to cut off her finger!" I stared intently at the screen, eyes wide. "Oh! Well, that was stupid. I mean, did he not expect her to scream?"

Anthony shook his head. "How do you watch this stuff? Me, I like comedies."

"Of course you do," I muttered, not glancing away from the flat screen. "Holy shiitttt...run, bitch, run!"

Anthony paused.."Did you get that from Scary Movie?"

I give him a sheepish grin. "Horror movies are the best." My stomach grumbled, causing me to realize just how hungry I was. "Oh, uh..."

"Let's go get something to eat," Anthony suggested, raising his eyebrows.

I nodded in agreement. "Oh, wait!" I picked up the remote and aimed it at the tv. "Gotta pause it."

Anthony rolled his eyes and made his way back downstairs. I threw the remote back on the bed and then followed after him. By the time I got dowstairs, Anthony had already raided the kitchen. Tubs of ice-cream, bags of chips and cookes, bottles of soda littered the counter. My eyes lit up in excitement. 

"Oh, my God, I think I'm in love with you," I muttered. I was actually talking to the food, but Anthony must not have caught onto that.

"Oh, yeah, I know," he cockily replied. I raised my eyebrows and shook my head, not even bothering to tell him I wasn't speaking to him. I walked towards the chocolate chip ice-cram, grabbed a big spoon, grabbed a big bag of chocolate chip cookies, some whipped cream, and ran back up the steps and into the room, leaving Anthoyn to clean up.

By the time he came back (which was really a few minutes) the movie was playing and I was happily eating my ice-cream and cookies. Anthony plopped down next to me, and grabbed a cookie. Five minutes passed in comfortable silence except for the sound of munching when I streched my arms and let out a very un-sexy groan-ish yawn. I sounded demented. Anthony let out a soft chuckle.

"Mm," I groaned, shaking my head. "I'm tired."

Anthony nodded in agreement. He grabbed a remote off his bedside table and clicked a button. The lights in the room turned off. Just as he was about to stand up, I felt fear and sadness roll over my body. I was still upset over what happened with my dad. Anthony helped get my mind off of it for a little while, yeah. But I was still sad and pissed and scared. 

I latched my hand around his wrist. "Where are you going?"

Anthony looked down at me, his eyes staring right into mine. "Guest room."

I shook my head no and gently pulled on his arm. "No, please don't leave. Please? Just..lay here."  I hated that I was being so weak and fragile. I mean, I've only known him for a day or so. A day, and you're already in his bed.

Anthony sighed and scrached the back of his neck. He looked uncomfortable. But then his face sort of lit up, ad he hopped into the bed next to me. Before I could ask him about his change in mood, he grabbed me and pulled me out of the bed.

"Wha--?" I started.

"Take off your clothes," he ordered, pulling off his own shirt and unbuttoning his jeans.

My eyes widened at his toned body. Oh. Wow. "Wait, what? Why would I--"

"I'm giving you something to change into. you don't want to sleep in that; it's dirty from the food. Here." He walked over to a drawer, pulled out a shirt and tossed it at me. I caught it and then sighed. I guess he was right.

Could you, um, turn around?" I asked, cocking my head to the side.

Anthony shook his head no. "Actually, I wanted to watch."

"Anthony," I growled in a  warning tone. He spun around and faced the door. I quickly tugged off my shirt, leaving me in my bra and then the pants. I pulled his shirt on overmy head and watched it fall over my body. The shirt was pretty big and so it fell maybe an inch or two above my knees. "Okay."

He turned back around, looked me up and dow, and gave me an approving nod. Then grabbed my clothes and walked out the room. "I'll put these in the washing machine," he called.

I nodded to myself and then climbed into his warm bad, pulling the blanket over myself. The AC was on, and so it was a bit chilly in here. I didn't want it off, though, because it would get too hot. Minutes later, Anthony returned in all his boxer glory. Litterally. he only had on his boxers, but he looked so good. I bit my lip and looked away. 

Anthony was about to climb in, when he hesitated and looked at me. I can go to the guest room if you want," he offered. I gave him a small smile and shook my head no. Satisfied, he climbed in, and pulled me towards him so we were spooning. His warm chest was pressed against my back and i shivered when I felt his arm wrap aroud my waist. I didn't stop him, though.

This was nice. I finally had something nice. This doesn't make it official or anything. We aren't dating. But it was nice to just do. I closed my eyes and sighed, feeling contempt.

"I need you to tell me what happened today. Why you were crying. Why there are bruises on your body. I need you to explain it tome, so that I can help you." Anthony's voice was soft and mellow. "I need to make sure that nobody is hurting you, because you are too pretty to be taken advantaged of. No body deserves to be hurt. No one. Do you have an abusive boyfriend?"

I knew for a fact that if i told Anthony my father was beating me the way he was, Anthony would kill him. I mean, he is in a gang. I'm sure Anthony's used a gun before. Anthony would kill my father, and  couldn't let that happen. Besides, it's none of his business. He's letting me stay, that's great. But I really dont want to get into it. Ever.

"Anthony--"

"Shh," he cut me off, his arms tighteing around me. I felt so warm and..and safe. "We can talk in the morning, okay?"

I nodded slightly, before drifting into a deep sleep.

"No!!!" It was the loudest I have ever screamed in my life. "No, stop! Stop, leave him alone! Please!"

It was loud, but still not enough. I felt as if no one heard me. I tried to move, tried to do something, anything I could to get to him, but I couldn't move. My legs wouldn't let me.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" I shouted, louder this time. Then, my legs wre working. I was breathing. I was running. Towards them. I saw the barrel, but wasn't fast enough. Wasn't loud enough. "No!!!"

Bang! Bang bang! Bang!

"Oh, God, no."

I dropped to the floor next to his lifeless body, cradeling his head in my hands. He looked disoriented. His curly hair was bloodied and messed up. His face was bruised. He looked like he was shifting between two people. 

"No, Anthony, stay with me, please," I cried, trying to apply pressure to the gun wounds. It didn't help. "No come on..."

I closed my eyes shut, tightly, feeling more tears. When I opened them, it wasn't Anthony lying on the floor, bleeding and dying. It was my father. He glared up at me, hatred in his eyes.

"This is you're fault you stupid, spiteful..." The voice was my fathers. It looked like my father. But then it didn't. It looked like Anthony. He changed to Anthony and spit out the last hurtful word.

"Bitch."

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