Part Four
1120 Words
He checks the student parking lot for the second time. Maybe he missed it. No, he's sure of it, her car isn’t there. Maybe she rode with Red, the two of them were always together, sometimes they went to work together. He finds Wanda’s car, leaning against it, wondering what reason Y/N didn’t drive to school. She was there the day before, she never mentioned anything being wrong with her car when he spoke to her.
He watches as Wanda checks her phone moving through students. When she looks up, she stops. He can see the struggle on her face, trying to decide which way she should go. Be a good friend, or risk the wrath of Y/N. She sighs moving towards him.
“Red,” he pushes off Wanda's car “where is she?” He stares down at her.
“She took, a, sick day.” Wanda speaks slowly as if she was putting the lie together on the fly.
“Why?” He folds his arms over his chest.
“I can’t tell you that, Peter.” She doesn't look up at him. Her eyes remain fixed on her hands, gripped tightly to the strap on her bag.
“Red, I swear.” He warns her. She sighs, clearly knowing he isn’t above showing up at her house if he is forced too.
“Look,” she finally looks up at him, “I can’t tell you. But she will be at work tonight.” Shrugging one shoulder.
“Fuck.” He scraps his hands over his face.
“I’m sorry.” She gives him a sympathetic look. He nods, before he steps out of her way, letting her get to her car. “Peter,” she calls as she opens the car door, he turns to face her “don’t do anything stupid. I know you care, but don’t put my best friend at risk.” He nods, knowing it would be the stupid choice to show up at her house.
She grits her teeth as she gets out of her car. He’s on her instantly, shoving the car door shut as his body backs hers into it. She bats wide eyes, confused where he came from. She swallows, and her body shakes slightly as his hands come down on her waist.
“What happened? You weren’t at school.” He looks over her face, her neck. There was nothing he could see, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything that isn't covered up.
“I took a sick day.” Her voice has the faintest shake.
“Are you sick?” He asks quickly. He'd tell May to send her home if so.
“I just,” she swallows “needed a break.” She mutters. His brow connects.
“A break?” He mauls the word over.
“Peter, stop.” She doesn’t want him digging at whatever she's hiding.
“What aren’t you tell me?” He wonders as his hands drop a little farther, gripping her hips.
“Nothing. Ouch.” She flinches away. Covered marks, his jaw ticks. His left hand stays in place, he glances around making sure nobody can see them.
“Lift it.” He nods down at the skirt of her dress.
“What? No.” She scuffs.
“Only after you say yes, Darlin’. I’m being serious, lift it.” He nods once more. She heaves an annoyed sigh before her hand grabs the hem of her right side and lifts. Her jaw clenches as he pushes up the material, stopping her hand when it’s high enough for him to get the gist of it. Just above where her dress stops, a dark purple bruise covers the outside of her thigh.
“How high does it go?” He looks to her.
“Here.” She taps the top of her hip bone.
“Your daddy do this?” He asks, placing her dress back down. She heaves a sigh, chewing the inside of her cheek.
“I messed up.” Your tone cold. “Leave it be.” He scuffs as if you offended him.
“Why? What did you mess up?” His tone bitter. What did it matter to him? He won’t want anything to do with you, with the pathetic excuse you are for a person.
“I dropped his bottle of Jack.” You sigh. Might as well be honest, Peter Parker isn’t going to want anything to do with daddies little punch bag after this.
“f*****g Christ, Darlin’.” His head drops back, his jaw worked tightly.
“So I’m sure this will be the last I see of you.” You snort, it’s cold and detached.
“What?” His head snaps back right, his brow connects.
“You know what I mean. I’m sure you’ll find the next flavor in your book.” You roll your eyes.
“You think, that, really?” His brow pulls together a little farther.
“What?” You glance at him.
“Y/N everyone in town knows your daddy’s a drunk, who knocks you around.” He blinks at you. Your head tips aa your eyes widen.
“What?” You blink.
“Unless you’re secretly in a fight club, everyone has a good guess that’s how you end up with split lips and cringe when you sit down.” He shakes his head.
“f**k, you knew?” You gasp, your brow connects. Embarrassment floods through you.
“Did you think that would make me not want you?” Peter snorts.
“Well. Yeah.” You scratch the back of your neck.
“No, all it does is make me want to kick your daddy’s teeth in.” Peter’s jaw clenches.
“Don’t.” You touch his arm, stepping closer to him. “I’m going to Wanda’s for the weekend. I’ll be fine.” You nod.
“Call me.” His hands cup your jaw. “Text me. f**k, Darlin’ give me something.” He sighs.
“Maybe.” You give him a small smile.
“Okay.” He nods, letting go of you. He steps back, ready to turn away.
“Peter?” You call getting his attention.
“Yeah?” He turns back quickly, a small smile on his lips.
“Would you,” you fidget, twisting your fingers together “come back tonight?” You glance up at him. “I close, and I really don’t want to be alone, in case.” You swallow, not bothering to finish.
“I’ll be here.” He nods, giving you a small smile. He understood, you don’t want to be alone in case your daddy showed up drunk.
- Writer
