Score: Coming Home Pt. II - Skylar Grey

Mark

I am too nervous to go home. I feel restless and my mind is racing, going over the possibilities of what may be happening at the flat. I didn't want to leave Lydia alone, but I know too well my presence would only make matters worse.

But my gut is telling me that I should stay close by, and, through all the years of playing poker, I have learned to trust my gut. That's why, I don't move from my spot in front of Lydia's house. I feel that she might need me sooner rather than later.

To pass the time and ease my nerves, I take out my phone. It's Saturday, which means games are on somewhere, today and tomorrow, and I need to know if there's something worth my time.

There's a game in Soho that catches my eye and I sign up for it before all the slots are filled out.

Then, I check my social media, and, of course, there are literally hundreds of photos from yesterday's prom, rolling on my feed. Gloria has uploaded so many, my head hurts. One photo, in particular, catches my eye. It is a shot of Lydia and Patrick, posing for Gloria together in front of the hotel. Lydia looks drunk already, but also happy. Patrick's arm is draped across her shoulders, his gaze locked on her face.

The caption makes me squeeze my phone with enough force to crack the screen.

"The one for the ages: The Future Lady and Lord Casterly, graduating Winterbill."

My heart writhes with pain and anger. It's like everybody thinks they are perfect together. That they are this amazing power couple, gorgeous, and driven, and polished. Like they are meant to be.

No one would say such a thing about us. What could I possibly offer her, apart from my fucked up past and even more fucked up present?

But there is no us...

I shake the unpleasant thoughts away.

Breathe.

I stayed away for two years, thinking that would be best for everyone. For Lydia. For myself. But, after last night, a spark of hope ignited the long latent fire in my heart, which erupted with such great power, it may burn the world down if it means there's the slightest chance for us to be together.

I'm yours, Mark.

Memories of last night flood into my brain, making my skin tingle with electricity.

I walked away once. I'm not doing the same mistake again.

I squeeze my jaw and look out of the window just in time to see Patrick walk out of the building. I lower myself in the seat. He hasn't seen this car before, but he'll definitely recognize me if he sees me.

He's fuming and doesn't so much as glance down the street before he stomps to his car.

Good. If he's mad, then, maybe, Lydia broke up with him.

I straighten up, my gaze stalking him. Patrick's walking down towards his car, frustration emanating from him, palpable even through the distance, and I bask in his anger as if it is the sunshine in Costa del fucking Sol.

He gets into his car and drives away, the tires of the freakin Jag screeching on the wet asphalt.

1:1, wanker!

I'm still high on Patrick's sulky face, when Gloria and Alex rush out of the building, as well.

What's happening up there? Are they having a fucking party?!

I roll the window down.

"Oi!" I bellow, waving from the driver's seat.

Gloria and Alex freeze in their tracks, narrowing their eyes to see who's yelling. When they recognize me, Gloria rushes to the car.

"Well, if it isn't the Loverboy himself!" She sneers, leaning on the door.

Embarrassment washes over me and I feel like I'm blushing. What the hell? Me, blushing?

"You know," I say, trying to keep my voice flat.

"Damn right, we know. Some of us have known for longer than others, though." Gloria shoots a glance at Alex.

"Oh, grow up, Gloria, will ya?" Alex rolls her eyes.

"Thank you for telling me, by the way!" Gloria ignores her friend and turns back to me. "I see that sixteen years of friendship don't mean anything to you, or Lydia."

"I'm not in the mood, Gloria," I snap through gritted teeth. God knows I love her to pieces, but she can be a massive pain in the ass. "What happened up there? Why are you here?"

"Charming, just like your girlfriend," Gloria scoffs. "We came because we care about Lydia. Because we were worried about her last night. Though, it seems we had nothing to worry about. You probably took good care of her. Unlike Patrick up there...Ouch!" Gloria jumps, as Alex pinches her shoulder. Hard.

Something in the way Gloria spoke the last words makes the hairs on my neck stand on edge. And why did Alex shut her up like that? Something's wrong...

"What do you mean?" Blood rushes in my head, swooshing in my ears.

"Nothing..." Gloria bites her tongue. She glances at Alex with a mixture of guilt and panic.

"I'm not buying it." I shake my head. "What happened up there, Gloria?" I repeat my question.

Gloria gulps audibly but doesn't say anything.

"Damn it, Gloria!" I hit the steering wheel so hard, I'm surprised the airbags don't go off.

Gloria and Alex wince, but Gloria finally spills.

"He choked her." Gloria swallows again.

She doesn't need to say anymore. Red fireworks explode behind my eyes, covering my vision in crimson. The world goes suddenly on mute and I don't hear the noises from the street anymore. A beat passes, then another, and I feel like I have suddenly gone deaf, blind, and mute. Then, my surroundings rush into my senses again, with unnatural speed and clarity.

My mind, my body, my entire fucking being is reduced to only one thought: Find that fucker and break every bone in his body.

Realization hits me that I don't know where he lives, or where he's gone off to now. Minor details. I'll figure it out.

"Is she OK?" I say, when I recover my ability to speak, my voice coming out surprisingly calm.

"Y-yes. She looked fine. She's talking to her father upstairs." Alex says.

Relief washes over me like a cold shower, soothing the scorching heat of anger on my skin. I'll deal with Colin later. I have more pressing issues now.

"Get in the car," I say, my voice cutting like steel.

Alex and Gloria share awkward glances. Geez, what's with these girls and glances?

"What do you...?" Gloria begins, but I cut her off.

"Get. In. The car."

They rush in the back, without further protests.

I start the engine and peel off the pavement.

"Where did he go?" I ask, eyes locked on the road.

"I don't know. He didn't say anything, he just stormed out." Alex says with a trembling voice. For a second, I wonder whether I'm scaring her and Gloria, but then I decide I don't care.

"Where does he live?"

"What?" Gloria whips out.

"Where do the Casterlys live?" I drag every word out, making sure they can hear me loud and clear.

"Mark..." Gloria begins with a trembling voice. "Please, think about what you're doing. It's not worth it, Lydia's fine, please just drop it..."

"Damn it, Gloria, I asked you a question, I did not ask about your opinion!" I snap.

Gloria blurts out the address and I set it on the car's GPS.

"You can't get in there, Mark. They have a separate entrance, and security, what's the point in going there?"

"That's why I need you," I say, the plan clear in my head from the moment they got in the car. "You're gonna lure him out."

"Mark, you're acting crazy!" Alex's voice is more of a plea. "Please, don't do this."

But I don't listen. The crimson veil before my eyes drops a notch. My pulse, thumping in my ears like a hammer, decreases its roar. Strange calmness befalls me.

Think. What am I going to do with him...

I'm halfway over to the Baby Lord's house when Alex's phone rings.

"It's Lydia." She says.

I pull over so fast, I nearly cause a chain crash.

Alex picks up.

"Hey, you alright?" She asks. I can't hear what Lydia's saying, but it can't be good. It's been less than an hour since Gloria and Alex left the flat.

"Yes, of course. Just, stay there, OK?" Alex hangs up.

"She wants me to go pick her up. I should've known better than to leave her with her dad there." Alex sighs, pressing the knuckles of her hand to her forehead.

"What about her father?" I ask, my blood boiling.

"Nothing." Alex snaps, looking at Gloria with not so subtle warning. "Can you please take me to my place? I need to pick my car up and go help Lydia. She said she's packed bags."

I sigh, my grip on the steering wheel tightening until I can't feel my fingers anymore. The red fog before my eyes is completely gone now, helping me see a wee bit clearer.

I want to smash Patrick's head in for raising his hand to Lydia. That's true. But Lydia needs help right now. That's also true. I can kick Patrick's ass tomorrow, or next week. Correct. While Lydia needs help now. And the fierce urge to protect her, sweep her in my arms, and keep her safe, outweighs my violent thoughts towards Patrick.

I squeeze the bridge of my nose between my fingers and inhale deeply. I suddenly know exactly what I should do.

I'll deal with my FOMO later.

"We're going back there together," I say, turning the car.

"What?" Alex snaps. "No way. She asked for me. She asked me to go get her." She continues, shuffling in her seat.

"We're going back there now," I say, ignoring her protests. Lydia can decide for herself where she wants to go, once we get there.

And a huge part of me is hoping that she'll choose to come with me...

Fuck her perfect lord. He might have more to offer, but I would never hurt her. I would never let a hair fall from her head.

Raindrops start pounding on the front shield. Fuck, I hadn't noticed it was about to rain!

I get us back to Brompton Square in record time. I'm truly surprised my license hasn't been revoked since I got back from America.

Alex and Gloria stay silent the whole ride.

Yep. Definitely scaring them.

I park and rush out of the car. I step on the pavement, looking frantically up and down the street. The rain has picked up and is now hammering on the ground.

Where are you, Lydia?

I hear the car doors open and close behind me and I know it's Alex and Gloria.

I turn around to ask Alex to call Lydia. I look across Alex's shoulder towards the gardens.

And I freeze in my tracks.

There's Lydia, standing there, looking at me with wide eyes, bags hanging from her shoulders. The rain has soaked the t-shirt and joggers she's wearing and is matting her hair to her face. Even though her face is wet from the rain, I can still tell she's been crying.

The world stops spinning. I hear Alex's voice from far away, as I step on the street and run across towards Lydia. Gloria and Alex are all but blurry spots, as I run past them.

I reach the other side and stop right in front of Lydia. She looks up at me, her bottom lip shaking.

I take one step closer, closing the distance between us, and wrap my arms around her small body, my heart bleeding with emotion from seeing her like this. Vulnerable. Hurting. She doesn't show this part of herself often.

She hesitates for a bit, but then wraps her arms around my waist and presses her face into my chest. Her bags drop to the wet ground, but neither of us pay attention to them.

I kiss the top of her head and say in her ear:

"Don't cry, baby." I inhale the scent of honey and her rain-drenched hair. "I'm here now."

And I fucking mean it. I am here now and I'm not going anywhere, no matter what Patrick, or Colin, or my dad have to say.

I'm home. And I'm not leaving this time.

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Hey, folks! What do you think of the story so far? What would be Patrick's next move? If you like it, then please vote and comment 🙂