Nick got on top of him and began to hit him, like the boy from the museum but this time worse. It got to the point where he had blood on his hands. I couldn’t see Jackson’s face as Nick’s back was blocking my view, but I knew he was tearing him apart.
With the little strength I had left, I walked towards him and placed both hands on his shoulders, trying to pull him away. If he keeps hitting him like this, he’s going to kill him.
My pushes weren’t of any help, he didn’t move and he didn’t stop hitting him. Jackson’s face was covered in blood and he was trying to cover his face or defend himself with his hands.
“Nick! Stop!” I screamed with all my might. He stopped hitting him but didn’t get off him. “Please, stop. You’re going to kill him.”
He looked at me and his angry expression changed. He was calmer. He got up and looked at him.
“If you get near her again, even to look at her, I’ll finish what I started today,” Nick affirmed.
Jackson staggered to his feet. His face was literally swollen and covered in blood, I wouldn’t be surprised if Nick had broken his nose and a few teeth.
Just as he was about to leave, he looked at Nick and then at me, he smiled even with his entire face dripping blood. “You were just a game, did you know that? All that about taking you out to eat and being so compatible was part of our plan, sweetheart, we knew everything. Pride and Prejudice? You have to be stupid to believe this piece of shit would read that.”
Nick was going to attack him again, but he retreated more quickly. Jackson was gone. I could only see Nick’s back, but he was tense. The word game started to invade my mind.
“What’s he talking about?” I asked, terrified of the answer. I knew, I knew his answer, I just didn’t want to believe it.
“Don’t believe what this asshole said, he’s a fucking drug addict,” he turned around, there were a few drops of blood on his face. He wasn’t able to look at me, instead, he looked directly at the floor and smiled nervously.
“I’m not stupid, tell me what he meant,” I demanded.
“Samantha, please…”
“Tell me what he meant!” I screamed. A knot formed in my throat.
He approached me. I took a few steps back wanting at that moment to be as far away from him as possible.
“Listen, I regret this. I would never have accepted if I had known I would fall in love with you again,” my heart was slowly sinking. “Actually always, every moment of my life I was in love with you. But I also hated you, most of my life I did. Although the hate was actually agony, the agony of not being able to have you by my side, not being able to touch you. I realized that when I saw you outside my door the day you came back, I just refused to accept it. I refused to accept that all this time I needed you. I refused to accept that I only need you. I refused to accept that you are the person I loved most in my entire life and to prove it… I tried to hurt you. With some guys I usually hang out with I said that I’m the best at conquering women and I told them you were at my house, so they…” He closed his eyes tightly and took a breath. How lucky he is to still breathe, I can’t even blink. “Remember that I’m regretting it now. Remember everything I told you earlier please,” he made a big pause while I felt my heart in my mouth. “There are many titles we give ourselves among us and they are known throughout the campus, we are a group, like a fraternity and they said that if I managed to have sex with you… they would name me the best fucker of all and I agreed.”
Tears started to pour fast from my eyes. My heart fell to my feet. He looked at me and the tormented expression on his face made me want to give him a big slap. Now he wants to play the damn victim? I couldn’t bear to look at him any longer.
I quickly grabbed my blouse and put it on, then my skirt and shoes. Everything at a high speed, ignoring the pain I felt in my body and within it. I couldn’t be naked in front of him, the memories of the times he touched me came to mind and I wanted to erase each and every one of them.
I wanted to erase every touch, every kiss. Everything. But they would always be there, reminding me that I was so stupid to trust him, to let him touch me and reach me in ways no one else did. His kisses and caresses would be ingrained in my skin.
“Please, Sam. Talk to me,” his pained voice made me want to kneel down and scream. How do I still feel a part of my chest burning when he talks like this, why do I still care?
I got up ready to go out the door. When I almost made it, he grabbed my arm and tried to pull me towards him, but I did everything possible not to even touch him.
“I hate you, don’t touch me!” I yelled at him. We struggled for a few seconds, until I slapped him, he let me go, but it wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to hurt him so much that he would feel at least a quarter of the pain I’m dealing with.