Los Angeles Bound (A Colby Brock Story)

Part 93 (Colby's POV)

She moves from the TV to the coffee table, shattering it into pieces, this time yelling as she does it. "You sick motherfucker!" She splits boards and wrecks drywall. "This is for every single bruise you put on me, mentally and physically." She demolishes the old stereo, bursting ceramic and plastic. I watch her wreak havoc on the house, spilling past secrets as she does. Telling all of us things we didn't know. Things Taylor didn't even know considering the look of shock on her face. Breaking my fucking heart one word at a time. I look back and nobody else move's but they look down, giving her privacy while being there for her at the same time. The windows are busted. Every piece of wood is broken and glass is everywhere as holes decorate the walls from the bat. Her breaths come out in rushes, her cheeks wet from tears. She drops the bat and wipes her face with the back of her hand. "Give me the gas," she says. I walk out of the hallway that was protecting me from flying particles and give her the tank. "Y'all go out."  "I'm not leaving you." I slide my hand into my pocket, pull a lighter out that was on the counter earlier, and toss it to her. If she's here, I'm here. Her lips fold in as she tries to control the sadness leaking from her eyes. Everything inside of me wants to wrap her in my arms and hold on to her. But I don't because I know that's not what she wants. Bella doesn't need to be coddled. That's not who she is. She nods and looks back at everyone. "We're with you, B." Brennen says, his voice filled with emotion as the others nod. She sniffs and wipes her face with the sleeve of her shirt. Her eyes dart around the room before landing on old mail. She pours gasoline onto the counter and walks over to the manila envelopes. Dropping the can, she flicks the lighter. Slowly, the ends of the paper start to burn. I hear the front door open and turn to see Sam holding the knob as he watches it all. She smirks and tosses the thing onto the counter. Blue-orange flames chase each other, and she looks back at me with raw emotions and the best one? Satisfaction. "Come on," I say, lifting my hand to the side for her to grab it. She does and we follow Sam out of the house. Smoke billows from its broken windows in a matter of minutes. We watch it before moving the cars across the road, and even then we get out and stare at the burning house as it folds in on itself. I wrap my arm around her, and she leans into me, snaking her own arm across my waist. She looks up at me, her cheeks rosy and tear-stained. Her lips are pink and swollen. Damp, dark eyelashes blink as strands of her hair blow in the wind. She's never looked more beautiful. Her expression is filled with gratitude and adoration. It knocks me off my feet. It's a look I've never seen before. Not from her. Not from anyone. Not like that. "I love you," she whispers, teardrops spilling. My heart faints. She owns me. I hold her tighter to me and quick-kiss her hair before resting my cheek on it. A rush of flames shoots up from her bedroom and I feel her chuckle in satisfaction.