Living My Life [Book 2]

Chapter 25

TW: domestic abuse/bruising

Harry's POV

Where the hell is Peter? I was sitting on the top bleacher and the game had already started. He wasn't answering my calls or texts.

I began searching the field for Wade and Johnny. I knew that Peter would want the update on how they were doing when he got here. I got slightly sidetracked by Gwen's cheerleading before I realized I couldn't find Johnny.

"Hey," I tapped the girl in front of me, "Do you know where Johnny  Storm is?"

"He's #23 right? They said he wasn't at practice. He'll probably show up later," she informed me.

I nodded and noticed someone limping up the bleachers towards me. It was Peter wearing an oversized sweatshirt that I've never seen before.

"Dammit Harry. Why'd you have to sit all the way up here?" He said moving slowly.

I laughed. "New sweatshirt?"

"It's Johnny's," he groaned trying to sit down.

"You okay? I thought you went home?"

"I'm fine. How is everybody doing?" He avoided the question.

"Wade made three touchdowns already and-"

"Hey, #23 just got on the field," the girl that I spoke to earlier turned around to tell me.

"Thanks."

Peter pulled his sleeves down over his wrist and kept fidgeting. That's when it clicked.

"Oh my gosh," I gasped. Peter looked over at me with worried eyes. "You were late 'cause you were with Johnny!?" I whisper yelled so I wouldn't attract too much attention.

"Harry, please. I'm fine," Peter said quietly. That's why he wasn't answering my calls!

"Peter, what happened??" I asked concerned. I touched his wrist and he flinched and moved it. I furrowed my eyebrow and quickly grabbed his arm and pulled his sleeve up.

He yelped in pain and squeezed his eyes shut. He had bluish-purple bruises around his wrist. I gasped and turned his face to look at me.

"Did he do this?"

He didn't respond. He just covered his face with his hands and began sobbing softly. His whole body shook and I pulled him towards me.

"Shh.. It's okay. I'm gonna get you some help, Pete."

"No don't," his voice was muffled in my shirt. "He's going to find out and make it hurt worse," he cried.

"Shh..he won't find out." I tried calming him. He kept shaking his head and sniffing.

"He said I was a dirty slut and that no one wants me," he cried. "I should have believed you. Why wasn't I more careful?"

He wiped his tears and stood up. "Where are you going?" I asked.

"It's halftime. I have to go see Johnny," he said blandly.

"No! Peter, this is crazy." I told him. Why won't he let me help him?

"He told me to come down there, so I'll go." He said simply but I could tell he didn't want to go.

"At least let me go with you," I stood up and followed him down the bleachers. I noticed his limp and knew it was bad. "Did you call your parents?"

He shook his head. "Their out of town. Plus he went through all my messages and phone calls. He told me not to tell anyone or else," Peter responded. We were walking around the fence to catch the football players before they go back into the locker room.