We walked away from the scene and I managed to turn around to see if Jason was okay. He was breathing, I could tell, from the rippling of his chest and his coughing of blood. I returned my attention to Nick, trying to catch his pace. I reached for his hand but he wrenched it away angrily. He withdrew a cigarette from the cigarette pack in his pocket and into his mouth before lighting it up.

"Nick," I called behind him but he didn't reply, continued smoking his cigarette. "Nick, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Why the fuck did you leave without my consent?!"

"What? I sent you a text, didn't I?" I said in astonishment.

"Yeah, and led me to this rodeo rape situation with you at the bottom!" he raged. "How dare you let someone else touch you?!"

"He was drunk and I was able to defeat him," I responded.

"By what, having your anus stuck to his dick?" Nick's erratic breathing intensified from the smoke fuming out of his nostril. "You're weak and vulnerable, you even flunk sparring. And yeah, from the way I see it, I think you'll ace it."

"I could if you don't barge in," I snapped.

"So this is the thanks I get?" Nick turned to me. "I wasn't supposed to save you? Okay, fine. Go back and do it from the start. Go on!" He pointed his cigarette towards Jason's depleted body which was a mile away from us. But I stood silently, looking at him pacing around angrily in front of me. He took a few more puffs and continued, "Why do you come here in the first place?"

"I need some time on my own, away from people," I answered.

"Including me? What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked, puzzled in his voice.

"It's an introvert thing, you wouldn't understand," I replied but he continued to gape at me like I just said something stupid and turned to walk away. "You're the one who wants a weird girlfriend. Well, congratulations! It comes with baggage to it."

"Nah, it's about your new look. You're doing that Bruce-Caitlyn shit and it's disturbing," Nick said, carelessly tossing the burnt cigarette filter to the ground. "I was happy when you were mine alone. Now, every dickhead wants a piece of your ass."

"I changed the way I look for myself and not for anyone," I clarified.

"Okay, wear them only in my presence, especially those dress I bought for you. You can do a rendition of 'Dior on the floor' or whatever," Nick spoke unsteadily before drawing me closer to him, his face inches from mine. "But you can never leave my sight ever again, nor my apartment. Are we clear? I'm taking the keys from you."

"Yeah, you can't possibly make me," I snorted, folding my arms. "I'm going back to my flat." Nick didn't reply. When we finally reached his X351, he held out his hand and beckoned me for the spare keys. I reluctantly took out the keys from my jacket pocket and placed it onto his cupped hand. I said, "You don't own me, Nick."

"Well, technically I do," Nick said smugly, pulling the handle to my side to open before walking around towards the driver side. "I'm going to make sure that no one else ever touches you or hurt you again."

"You have no right –"

"Shut up, Zahida. I don't want you to talk about this anymore!" he snapped. "Get in the damn car."

I reluctantly obeyed and got in, my eyes warily caught his but his angry eyes evaded mine. He jabbed the start engine button and revved up the engine, making it scream. Once again silence stretches between us. His darkened face remained unchanged as he pierced his gaze towards the dashboard.

Recalling our argument earlier made me I chuckled, "Funny how you preach about protecting me from getting hurt, when you weren't even protecting me from you."

"Sorry, I don't follow," he muttered under his breath. "I thought I told you to shut up."

"You know, for a person who had feelings for me since Moss Lane, you had done more physical harm on me than any man I know," I pointed out.

"Don't start it," he said in exhaustion.

"But it's true, ain't it? I got most bruises from you. You allow your man to whack me up relentlessly. And you've probably seen the scars you made considering you indulge me every night. Were you not guilt-ridden over them?"

"Zahida, if you don't stop –" he hissed.

"Why should I stop, Nick? Were you afraid to talk about the past because it was real?" I pressed on. "Because if we talk about it, it'll cause me more injuries? What happens if you turn violent again?"

"Shut the fuck up!!" he roared, striking his fist on the Jaguar logo in the centre of the steering wheel for four times, one strike for every word. The vibration of the car and the horn sounding from the anger he transferred was enough to startle anyone but not my resentment. I watched him silently resting his forehead against the Jaguar logo, his hands remaining gripping the circle of the wheel, one at 11 o'clock and the other at 1 o'clock, while his face hidden behind his arms.

"You're even a hypocrite, Nick," I said, feeling the lump on my throat. "You keep telling me to be real when you've been cheating yourself, pretending to be someone you don't. And you had the audacity to hide it from me. How can I trust you when you don't even tell me your real name?"

"Stop, please," he cried. He lifted his head, face flushed, the tip of his nose turned pink and his angry eyes turned red and wet. I silenced myself, realising that I was pushing his boundaries. He quickly held back his tears and recklessly maneuvered the car towards the exit. Then he sloppily wiped off the snot from his nose with his bomber jacket sleeve. From that moment, I just realised that I was capable of extracting his every emotion and made an irrevocable perfect young man turning into someone defeated by emotion. I think I broke Nick Pholadi once again.