Songs for this chapter are:
Be Alright - Justin Bieber
Through the Dark - One Direction
I shot up from the couch as I heard glass break and loud yelling. I ran into the kitchen and saw Justin bending over, picking up broken shards with a bloody hand. I gasped and his head jerked up to meet my eyes before mumbling more profanities under his breath. I started taking steps towards him until he spoke, "No, don't come any closer. You'll step on glass."
"Are you okay?" I whispered, trying to examine his hand from this distance.
Suddenly, Justin's eyes went dark and his fists clenched around the glass, probably creating more cuts on his palm.
"Don't act like you care." He spat, throwing the shards in the garbage. Didn't he want me to care?
"I- I- Let me see your hand." I reached out for him but he took a step back, his eyes flaming with rage.
"I don't need your fucking charity, just go." He snarled, putting his hand under cold water.
"Go!" He yelled and I ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I quickly slammed the door of the bedroom and locked it, sinking down onto the floor. My hands shook with fear as Justin's loud voice boomed in my mind.
Why did he get so angry when I asked if he was okay? I was only trying to help.
Stop it Brooke, you hate him. You enjoy seeing him in pain. He deserves it after all the pain he put you through.
But there was a side of my heart telling me he just needed someone to care for him.
You hate him.
I sighed and closed my eyes, resting my head against the door. I heaved myself off the floor and walked into the bathroom, closing that door and locking it.
It was certainly going to be a long night.
Justin's POV (yay)
As Brooke ran up the stairs, I screamed out again in agony. She was only trying to help and you scared her off. She was finally showing the smallest amount of compassion and you fucked it all up.
Good one, Justin.
I cleaned up the rest of the glass in a heap of my own anger. Did she actually care? No, she probably was trying to get close to me to escape. Brooke was smart, she knew how to deceive people to get what she wanted. And who the fuck was I to say I wouldn't be deceived by her? She could ask me to kill the President and I'd say yes. I would do anything for her.
But I swear I saw a sincere look in her eyes.
I shook my head and walked up the stairs, opening the door to the bedroom. The bathroom door was closed and locked and I assumed she was in there.
"Kitten," I softly called, tapping my knuckles on the wood, "please open the door I'm sorry."
I heard sniffles and a couple bottles of shampoo falling on the ground.
Why in the world was she crying?
Did I really scare her that much?
My heart ached, I know I have problems. I certainly don't mean to hurt her. The punishments are for her own good. Well, they're for my own pleasure too. I need her to know she could never escape, I need her in my life. I want her to love me,