j a i m e e

+

My hand slams onto the wooden door, hitting it continuously until it eventually opens.

Tory stands before me, open mouthed and almost breathless as his usually bright eyes reflect the terror that I saw in Taylor's not even 20 minutes ago.

"Where is he?" I demand to know, pushing my way past him as I stalk into his home. "Tory?"

The tanned boy hesitates, taking a moment to answer before I storm away from him and towards his bedroom door.

Stepping into Tory's bedroom without an ounce of hesitation, my stomach dropped.

Shayden was propped up with his back against the bed, on the floor, with his head resting on the mattress. Blood lined his nose and cheeks, a gash creating a line between his jaw and ear. A cut right in the centre of his bottom lip, the swelling making his lips seem fuller than usual as if it was even possible. The skin around his closed eyes appeared darker, with a purple tint spreading to his cheekbones. His dark curls matted against his forehead, left arm lazily thrown across his shirtless, and remarkably bruised, torso.

My lips quivered and my breathing remains uneven, as I sit on the floor opposite to him. He didn't react at all, as if he didn't realize I was even there, as Tory's pup, Rocky, lifted his head from his place on Shayden's thigh. I'd never seen the poor mutt leave Tory's side so I knew that deep down Rocky knew Shayden wasn't okay, and was staying by his side to protect and comfort him in the only way he knew how.

The sight tugged dangerously on my heartstrings. My voice broke the deafening silence, cracking as I said his name aloud. "Shayden."

I wanted to touch him, bring him into my arms and hold him until everything was better. And just as I was about to, I hesitated, wondering whether he'd want me touching him after suffering such a brutal beating.

Shayden's eyes blinked open slowly as my throat tightened, his head turning slightly but remaining on the mattress. "Jai..."

His eyebrows furrowed as he processed what was happening. Abruptly trying to move and rendering himself wincing in pain and gripping his side harder.

"Hey," My hands made contact with his skin momentarily as I tried to make him stop moving, "Shay, it's okay. Shush, shush." My fingers shake as I tried to pull his braids away from his forehead,

"Why are you here, doll?" He manages to grunt out, not being able to hide the moan of pain as he does so. "You can't see me like this, fuck."

"Taylor told me you were hurt. He said...said Cameron's brothers jumped you. I'm so sorry, Shay. This is all my fault, I-"

His lips are on mine before I have the chance to apologize any further, the metallic taste of blood seeping into my mouth as I leaned into his touch.

"No." I move away, shaking my head as he looks at me with half-closed eyes. "Fuck, Shay. Why aren't you at the hospital?"

"No hospitals. I'm fine." He mutters, but the blood seeping down his face and his neck says otherwise.

"You need help, Shay, medical attention." Stressing, I hear my voice begin to shake as he stares at me with relentless determination. But I didn't care. He needed help and I'd be damned if I didn't make him get it.

His hooded eyes watch me, before he eventually sighs and points towards the first aid kit across the room that I'd failed to notice.

I grab it, taking out the rubbing alcohol and cotton wool. We sit in silence as I clean the cuts on his face, the only sound in the room being him hissing in pain as the alcohol makes contact with his skin. But even then, I could tell he was trying to hold back any display of pain.

By the time all the blood is washed off his face and his cuts are cleaned, I manage to find a t-shirt that looks big enough to fit him in one of Tory's drawers and practically force him to put it on.

Sitting down across from him, my feet propped up so I can rest my arms on my knees, Rocky toddles over to me and paws my legs. I stroke him gently, ushering him onto my lap as I pet his fluffy coat. Gathering the courage to speak, I eventually ask him, "What happened?"

"We went out. Saw both of them, Colson and Cayden, outside while Tory and Tay were inside the bar. Colson was talking about screwing Libbie and then said he was disgusted when he found out she was basically his brother's 'sloppy seconds'." He practically snarls the words out, "Then Cayden mentioned how he's heard all about my girlfriend from Cameron. He said stuff that I'm not going to repeat, and mentioned how he saw you. So I punched him. I knew I wouldn't win against them both but I didn't care, they weren't going to disrespect my family in front of me."

"This is all my fault." The whisper escapes my lips before I have the chance to stop it. I don't mean for Shay to hear me but as his gaze snaps to mine and his eyes widen, anger cascading his features, I know he knew what I said.

"No. They're scum." The way he emphasises the word sends shivers down my spine, "None of this is your fault. Don't you dare blame yourself for them...them fucking-"

"Motherfucking shit-dick balls?" I offer, lips tugging up as I repeat one of 16 year old Shayden's favorite insults.

"They're disgusting." He mutters, "Words cannot even articulate how utterly revolting every single one of them are. I can't believe I ever gave them the time of day."

"At least you're safe now," I caress his cheek softly, mindful of the open wounds on his face as my thumb traces his cheekbones. "They can't hurt you here."

"They can't hurt me anyway. I'm Shayden Nkosi, remember?" He smirks, reminding me of all the times people thought they could break us. Amongst all the broken pieces, the bloody knuckles and broken noses, we always rose up further and showed everyone that fire isn't easily put out.

"It's time for you to rest, my love. We can fight these battles another day."

His eyes flutter shut, the smile never faltering from his face. "Say that again."

"What?" I breathe out, knowing exactly what is meant. Shuffling closer to him, I gently straddle his waist and lean my face closer to his ear, until I'm certain my breath is tickling his face. "Rest, my love."

"Fuck, I adore you so much, Mendoza." He lets out.

I press my lips to one of the cuts on his face, my own eyes closing as my next words flutter out. "Let's go home."

Climbing off him, I gather up the used wipes and put them in a small trash can in the corner of the room.

"I hate that this happened to you because of me." I whisper, feeling the weight lingering on my shoulders as I packed the first aid kit back up. The cuts on his face didn't look as severe now the blood had been wiped off, but the bruising was harsh against his soft skin. "Do you want anything more to drink?"

"Jaimee," Shayden was quick to speak up, his hand leaning out to cup my cheek. My own hand moved instinctively to cover his. "This didn't happen because of you. It happened because that sorry excuse for a man is scum and so are his brothers."

Still, I found my stare wandering back to the blood stained tissues that I'd failed to pick up off Tory's carpet. The heaviness in my chest wasn't hurting, but it still made anxiety rise into the pit of my throat as I thought about Shayden being in pain. I couldn't bring myself to look into his eyes.

"Doll," Shayen lets out, seeming to realize that, as usual, I was overthinking and overanalyzing everything. My heart lodged itself in my throat, the endearment helping me calm down. "Don't blame anyone other than those who have harmed us."

As if sensing my train of thought at his words, his eyes dropped down to my wrist. I try to distract myself instantly so I don't need to think about Cayden and his threats so I clean up the tissues.

Despite it, however, I see Shayden staring at my wrist that's covered in makeup. The bruises that Cayden left are no longer clearly visible despite the pain still lingering.

"Practise?" There's an edge to Shayden's voice that I don't like.

Shrugging, I put the sleeve of my hoodie down, trying to act as casual as possible. "Learned how to do it with my arm. I couldn't get a tattoo at 14 and the scars would've ruined all our pictures, so I just learned how to cover them up."

I feel a pang of discomfort at discussing the last remains of the attack. The scars were always so prominent against my skin, the white lines sticking out. Everyone thought they were casual in the way they looked at them but, no matter who I was with or where I was, people's stares would always look to them before me if my hair didn't cover them. I didn't need that reminder so I learned how to avoid it. The bruises on my wrist were nothing compared to them.

"Do you think about it?"

"Hmh?" I ask.

"What they did to you."

I pause for a moment, my hand pausing in mid-air as I go stroke Rocky. I drop it to my side.

"No." I reply immediately, "Sometimes." I add after a few moments of silence. "More than I should."

"Do you still get nightmares?"

"Not much since you came back." I say honestly. Now, I turn my head to him. Our eyes met. "Do you still get nightmares?"

"Not as much since you came back." He counters, using my own words against me. I send him a smile at that as he continues, "I think it's the reassurance that you're safe. I don't think I'd be able to cope if anything like that happened again."

"We always got through it though."

"That's because we were together."

I nod my head, agreeing wholeheartedly. "I never should've pushed you away from me, Shay. I'll never forgive myself for hurting you."

"Let's leave the past where it belongs. All that matters is that we're here now, together." Shayden says, before sticking his finger out expectantly.

I link my pinky with his, leaning down to kiss our locked fingers. "You're stuck with me forever, Nkosi."

"Marrying you will be the best thing I'll ever do, Mendoza." He plants his own kiss on our pinkies, leaning his forehead against mine. "I can't wait to spend my forever with you."

+++

I didn't realize that we'd fallen asleep on Tory's bed until the dawn sunlight shining through the bedroom window woke me up. My neck ached from where I'd been lying but I couldn't find it in me to complain when I saw Shayden lying beside me, with Rocky tucked between our entangled legs.

The bruising looked purple in the light, staining his nose and the skin around his eyes. His breathing sounded rough, telling me they'd probably gotten some body hits in, and his nose was scrunched up even as he slept, as if it was hurting him.

My fiancé let out a soft sigh, raven black eyes fluttering open as if he could feel me watching him.

"Shay, your face." I whispered, leaning forward to press gentle butterfly kisses to every part of his discolored skin. Shayden's hands were shaking faintly when he reached up to cup my face, running his fingers over my skin as his head tilted to the side.

After a few moments, he simply sent me a small smile.

"I adore you so much, Mendoza." Shayden said tiredly, eyes shutting for a few seconds. "I'm sorry for scaring you last night."

"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, my love." I promised, pressing another soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. I let my mouth linger for a second before pulling away, worried about hurting him. "We'll get you some painkillers and go home, yeah?"

"Hmh."

Shayden grunted as he stood up, wincing as he stretched his arms out. Hissing when he caught sight of his bruises in a mirror, he groaned dramatically. "I look awful. I could fucking kill them bastards."

I tried to smile at him but the lump in my throat wouldn't let me. I followed him into Tory's living room/kitchen, pressing a soft kiss to his now-clothed shoulder to hide the tears stinging in my eyes.

"I'm glad you're okay, baby." I muttered, wrapping my arms around his waist as I leaned my head between his shoulder blades. "I don't know what I would've done if Taylor would've told me to go to the ER."

The words were barely out of my mouth before Tory appeared, or more accurately stumbled, through the front door.

"McDonalds!" Tory shouted with far too much enthusiasm for like 9am. He held the bag up in his hand, grinning. "I got us breakfast."

"You're a legend."

"I know." Tory shrugged at the compliment, before pulling a shitload of food from the bag. "Eat what you want. There's like 3 of everything so whatever we don't eat, I'll send a picture to Taylor so he can cry."

"He'll actually hit you."

"That's if he can reach me." Tory mumbles, shoving a hash brown into his mouth. "The boy eats so much I bet he can barely run."

Shay snorts, stuffing his face with as much food as humanly possible as Tory just watches him.

"Tory..." I start off slowly, sensing that he might not have gotten us food out of the kindness of his heart. "Is there something you want to say?"

"Yup." He grins enthusiastically. "Shayden Nkosi, would you do the honour of asking me to be your best man?"