Beautiful Pain

Chapter 4

Novalee

     I wash the dishes as quickly and quietly as I can. My father is in the living room watching Bones while drinking a beer. As long as I don't make too much noise, I will be safe for the rest of the night.

     With the dishes dried and put away, I put my head down and climb the stairs to my bedroom. I barely get the door shut before I feel a sharp, fiery pain slice across my left thigh. Short slices mark my skin repetitively, and I quickly peel them off as I sit on my bed in shock.

     Before my eyes, letters form a sentence on my leg.

Let me help you

I stare at the words on my thigh, running my fingers over them repeatedly. Tears fill my eyes as I think of how desperate he must feel to do this. Shame fills me.

If I wasn't so pathetic, I might have found him by now. If I didn't let my father keep beating me, if I forced him to let me get a job, if I just stood up for myself.

I hate that he's had to resort to such desperate measures simply because I have let my father trap me in this horrible place.

As my mind wanders, my fingers trace over the individual letters. He has very neat handwriting, even with a blade. Every letter is precise and exact, each one the same size and height. I want him. Whoever he is, he has to be better than my father. He is my soulmate, the only other person in the world who can understand me.

Could I do it? I don't know. I don't know if I could stomach cutting into my own flesh long enough to give him my name and info. I walk around my bedroom in thought, but stop when I catch my reflection in the small mirror over my dresser.

The cut on my forehead is surrounded by a faint bruise, and my neck is dark and angry looking. I'm sure if I tried to talk it would be hoarse and strangled. I can't live like this.

With a newfound determination, I grab my cuticle scissors and get to work.

Deacon

I sit in my bathroom in my boxers and wait. I can't take my eyes off of the message I carved. Will they be angry? Will they even respond? I pray to God they do, I don't know what I'll do if they don't. Probably go crazy, probably turn into a recluse and lose my house and be the crazy hobo on the library steps that all the neighborhood kids run away from.

In the middle of my internal rant, I feel the familiar fire on my right thigh. Before I can give it my attention, I hear my front door open.

Shit.

"Deak! Where you at man?!" Sawyers voice booms, getting closer as he climbs the stairs.

Damn it. He must be giving our new chef Alex a chance at running the kitchen. Of course it would happen today, the only day I want privacy. I quickly wipe up the blood and stash the razor in the medicine cabinet. Just as he walks into the open doorway of the bathroom, I wrap a towel around my waist as if I was about to get in the shower.

"What are you doing man?" Sawyer starts before he notices my attire. "Oh, sorry. I'll wait for you down-" he suddenly stops short, his eyes caught on the floor at my feet.

"Deacon." Sawyer straightens to his full height of six feet and looks at me seriously. "Why is there blood at your feet?" He says it softly, but his eyes scream disappointment.

I sigh as I look down and see the small patch of blood that I missed on the floor.

"Sawyer, it happened again..." my muscles tense as I feel myself being to cry. His face softens as he listens to me tell him about the events from the grocery store, minus the old lady's story. "I can't handle this anymore. It's killing me. I'm so angry all the time, all I want is to be able to hold my mate and know they're safe. I want to keep them safe and with how bad it's getting, if I don't get to them now I don't think they'll last much longer."

Sawyer nods his head and runs his hands down his face.

"Ok. I can't say I understand, because I obviously don't. But I'm pretty sure if I were in your position I'd be doing the same thing, so I guess I have to support you." He says dryly, trying to lighten the mood.

"Thank you man." I wipe my face and sit on my bed.

"So, did they respond?" Sawyer sits awkwardly next to me, eyeing my towel while suppressing a laugh. "I really hope you've got underwear on, because I'm feeling like a creep trying to see under that towel."

That gets a laugh out of me, and I throw my head back, enjoying the moment.

"Yeah, they started right when you walked in. Just finished a minute ago." I stare at my leg through the towel, suddenly nervous to look. "I'm about to learn the name of my soulmate. Hopefully. I mean it's either that our they just told me to go screw myself." I chuckle as Sawyer rolls his eyes.

"I highly doubt that. Just take a peek you big baby!" Sawyer rips the towel away, and we look down at my thigh.

Novalee Simms
6556 Carter Rd
Smithburg CA

California. SHE is in California. I run my hands over the message, only partially seeing Sawyer begin to pack my bag.

"Come on man get dressed, you've got a girl to save." He throws my packed bag at me, and runs downstairs to grab my keys. I break out into a smile as I throw my clothes on, I've got a long drive ahead of me.