Chapter 11

1681 Words
Violet's POV **** "Here's your order sir," The cashier at the fast food drive thru says to Chris, passing the bag of food through the window. Chris then hands it to me and pays before pulling away and driving off in the direction of the football house. I don't waste time and dig into the big, fat juicy burger, the source dripping down my chin as I chow down. "Thanks," I mutter between mouthfuls and Chris chuckles. "You're welcome. Lex would never forgive me if I didn't feed you," Chris smiles at the mention of Lex, his love for him shining through, even if his eyes carry the sadness of keeping it a secret. It's only after I've finished eating that I curl up in a ball on the seat and watch the footballer. "He won't want to be your dirty secret forever Chris. Lex deserves to be loved openly and passionately, not treated as though your ashamed of your sexually or your love," Chris's grip turns white knuckled and he shifts in his seat, uncomfortable that I'm being so direct with possibly his worse fear. "It's not going to be forever. I plan on making us public after I've been in the NFL for a year. Once I've secured my place," I scoff and shake my head, because plans never work out as we envision. Things will pop up, demands made, social pressures placed and Lex will get hurt. "We both know plans never go how we want them to. He's been through enough as it is Chris," I watch a flash of hurt cross his face and he glances at me, well aware of what Lex has been through since he came out at sixteen. His family's version of conversion therapy, disownment, homelessness, the loss of friends and family and all before he turned seventeen. "I love him Vi, I love him so much I can't see my future without him in it. I want to marry him, adopt kids with him. I don't know how to breathe without him," his voice cracks and I sigh, leaning my head back against the head rest. It's all a big old mess. "If you hurt him Chris, you'll have me, the girls and our families to contend with. He's family, and we won't tolerate anyone hurting him," I warn him, well aware that my brother's are more protective of Lex then I am and I'm the most protective out of our group. "I know. If I hurt him you all have permission to kick my ass and ruin me," Chris flashes me a nervous smile and I turn up Labour by Pairs Paloma and sing along while rocking as the pain grows. The demon now sending shocks of electicity through my limbs. A sudden shock up my spine has my back arcing and a scream through clenched teeth escaping. Chris up's the volumn further, and opens the windows. "Come on Vi, sing the pain out, just like Lex taught you," he says, glancing at me before returning his attention back to the road. The words flow, my voice rising with the build up in the song. When I scream the words out with every shock, Chris begins singing along with me, keeping my focus on him and the music. "Five minutes and we'll be back," he says, pulling into the road we live on. "I'm going to kill Jordan," he mutters to himself, glancing back at me as tears rolls down my cheeks again. My phone vibrates but it's still only got 5% of battery and I can't answer it to let my dad know I'm safe. Running with wolves by AURORA comes on, just as Chris parks Jordan's pick up out front. He keeps the music playing, disconnecting the bluetooth so his phone is playing the song instead of the car radio. My focus zero's in on the song, my mind shutting everything else out, forming my happy place. A place I retreat to inside my head, a place where nothing else matters but breathing. Only this time I can hear the music, my lips moving as I sing, and within the confines of my mind I watch as a dance takes shape. The props, the emotion I want to convey, the part of my story I wish to tell through dance to this song. "Come on, lets get you inside," Chris says, unbuckling my belt. I let him help me out, my arms wrap around his neck as he helps me stand. "You ok if I carry you in?" He asks, looking to the front door that's open, his team mates waiting for us. My attention fixes on the five steps leading up and my knees nearly buckle at the sight. I can't, I can't walk up stairs, I nod and his hands grab under my ass and thighs. With ease, Chris picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist as though I'm a koala and he's a eucalyptus tree. Chris chuckles as I press my face into the crook of his neck, still singing as another shock of pain shoots through my hands, cramping them until I'm not certain I'll be able to let him go when he puts me down. With slow steps, he carries me into the house, muttering to someone about bringing my bags into the house. "Has she eaten?" Xander asks, and I press myself further into Chris. "I took her for a burger. Where do you want to go, Vi?" Chris asks me, leaning his cheek against the side of my head. "I'll take her up to my room," Jordan states, and I stiffen to the point Chris stops moving. He's smart enough to know, not to move when I tense up. "Do you want to stay in my room?" He asks, my grip around his neck tightening. "Can you let me down?" I whisper, and Chris rests his chin on my shoulder. "You sure you can stand?" I'm not sure, even as I nod, I'm half certain I'll collapse but when his hands leave my thighs, I drop my legs and stand, still clinging to his neck. Chris waits, his hands under my armpits, not holding me up, but there just in case. When my hands finally relax to the point I can let go, I turn to face the apologetic man. "Why didn't you get a bus, or cab back? You should have called me," Jordan says, taking a step forward when a topless Eric strolls downstairs, seeing a tipsy girl out of the house. A white hot rage builds in my chest. Not from being forgotten. Not from the pain radiating through nearly every joint in my body but from Eric's complete dismissal of what today is. The ease of which he's moved on with life while Gypsy struggles everyday with the guilt and trauma weighing her down. Chris tightens his grip on me. Holding me steady while also holding me back from doing something Gypsy might regret. Jordan looks between me and Eric, understanding dawning on his face. Oh, so he knows what Gypsy and Eric survived? That's good, it means he can talk some sense into his friend before I hit him around the back of the head with a crutch. "I fell asleep," I tell the quarterback. He frowns, waiting for me to continue. "After I sent the message, I sat down to wait five minutes. I was going to call a cab if you didn't turn up, but I was exhausted and fell asleep. When I woke up, I was still sat at the picnic bench, outside the dance studio. It's good to know I mean so little a house party is more important to you football players then checking if your guest is safe." I know I'm hitting below the belt, I don't know Jordan's reason for not turning up. I don't know the reasons why none of the other team members questioned him on my whereabouts. But right now I don't care. I'm in too much pain to care. Jordan's phone buzzs, my dad's number flashing. Without asking permission I snatch it out his hand and answer, holding back the tears threatening to roll down my cheeks again. "Hey dad, my phone ran out of charge." I tell him, letting Chris scoop me up bridal style, leaning my head against his shoulder as he takes me up to Jordan's room. "Violet, I've been so worried, are you ok? Your brother's and I were about to start calling your professors," He lets out a sigh of relief, his voice cracking from the stress. "I'm ok, I forgot to charge my phone last night, and when Mathews collected me after dance class, I fell asleep as soon as I sat down. I was knocked out," I shrug, although I know he can't see me. I grimace at the pain shooting through me, biting the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying out. I hate lying to my dad but I know he'd be livid to learn I was forgotten by the young men he trusted to keep an eye on me. "Sweetheart, next time that happens tell that boy to tell me. I was half tempted to get a flight out to you," I chuckle, knowing he's telling the truth. "I'm sorry, I'll make sure to tell him," I tell my dad, and as Chris places me gently on Mathews bed I curl up in a ball, pushing the pain down to reassure my dad that all is well. That he didn't make a mistake in trusting foolish college boys to look out for his daughter. I ask him about possibly shipping my wheelchair from home here, and when asked why, his surprise when I tell him it's a prop for my years end show makes me giggle. "I'm so proud of you sweetheart, so, so proud of you" my heart warms and its only when I end the call that I notice Jordan sitting on the sofa bed, watching me.
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