Chapter 15
On the third ring, the front door opens, and I panic, ending the call before it begins and putting the phone on the coffee table. Kirk slams the door shut, cursing as he walks towards the living room. “I’ll kill that son-of-a-bitch,” he mutters, then notices that I’m laying on the couch. “Andy, hey. I thought you’d be upstairs.”
I shrug one shoulder, “I haven’t quite made it that far.”
“Are you hungry?”
I laugh half-heartedly, “Not enough to eat anything you would make.”
He smirks, “Funny. Real funny.” We’re silent for a few minutes, and then my phone rings, breaking the silence. My heart lurches as he reaches to hand it to me. He glances at the caller ID, and disgust curls his upper lip when he reads the name. “Sick fucker,” he says, then looks at me, “You don’t have to answer this.”
I have to.
“Kirk…I am an adult here.”
“I know you are. But he’s also a fucking asshole who deserves to have his balls ripped off,” he sets the phone down once it stops ringing. “If I can keep him from screwing you up any more, I’ll consider my life a success.”
“What if I wanted to talk to him?” I counter.
“Tough shit,” he replies. “In case you forgot, that son of a bitch treated you like garbage. He let you think you were worthless. I’m not letting it happen.”
“You can’t stop me from warning him.”
“The hell I can’t. And why the fuck would you want to warn him anyway?” he asks, incredulous.
“He didn’t mean any harm; he wanted to help,” I answer desperately.
He makes me sit up, then he holds my shoulders and his eyes bore into mine. “Do you hear yourself? He beat you up. He called you names. Jesus, he fucking raped you, Andy. And you’re saying he didn’t mean any harm?”
“No,” I whisper, once again fighting back tears.
He shakes his head, and when my phone rings again, I grab it before he can stop me. “Hello?”
“Finally fell apart, I see,” Johan cackles.
“No,” Kirk says calmly, ripping the phone from my hand, throwing it across the room in the same motion. It smashes against the wall, shattering into thousands of pieces and sending Presley into a fit.
“I hate you,” I growl, pushing Kirk and trying to get away. I want to get upstairs before the last shred of my dignity crumbles.
“You’ll get over it,” he answers, grabbing my wrists and pulling me into a tight hug.
My defenses are gone, that wall as broken as the phone Kirk just ruined. I cry hysterically into his shirt, trying to get away, but he won’t let me. When I stop struggling, he starts to rock me back and forth gently. “Whether you like it or not, we’re going to make this better. I don’t care if I have to drag you through it kicking and screaming, Andy. I’m a stubborn bastard, and I’m not leaving you alone until I’m sure you’re better.”
“Why? Why does everyone care so much?”
He shrugs, “It’s the right thing to do, Andy. You’re part of a family here. It’s a different system than you had before. If there had been any sense of team loyalty or anything in Pittsburgh, they would have known what was happening. Something would have been done about it. But they didn’t, and now you’re here. And we’re going to make sure that it doesn’t go unpunished.”
“What about him?”
“Johan?” he asks, wrinkling his nose, “Hopefully the league fines him for a few million dollars, then carts his ass off to prison. And if not,” he adds with a teasing grin, “I’ll just kill him.”
