[CLOSED] you're giving me such a rush.

[nixon dimitri allen]

"I don't have to tell you a damn thing! I'm not married to you! His funeral will be soon and his death quick. That's all you need to worry about. And until I find out where he is, I'm gonna keep making your life hell." He glared at her, obviously hurt for the very first time. He gritted his teeth before he let her go, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You'd better go find your boyfriend before he ends up doing something he regrets doing. Because I'm sure he's got a gun in his truck. And he's not afraid to do it."

[zoey ashlyn martyn]

Zoey dropped her arms, searching around for her shirt. She didn't bother look for the bra, needed a new one anyway. Yanking it on, she glanced at him over her shoulder.
'He'll rape you eventually, I'll make sure of it.'

She shuddered, stumbking and rubbing at the marks of fingers over her wrists, didn't stop until she stumbled to the parking lot of the tattoo parlor, pounded desperately on Britton's truck door, trying to catch her breath.

[britton "britt" markus roberts]

Britt wasn't in his truck, he was in the back of the tattoo parlor. He had left the door propped open to let the air in, since the back tended to get hot. He was laying in the cot Knox had gotten for him, his arm hanging off the side. He had made deep enough gashes to have a pool forming at his finger tips, his other hand clinging to the small ring. He was slowly drifting to sleep, which was probably a bad idea considering he was bleeding. 'I'm sorry moma..' He thought sadly.

[zoey ashlyn martyn]

Zoey peered inside, then looked around, eyeing the open door. She stumbled inside, found Britton and gagged softly. "Britt..." She murmured, shaking him gently. She touched his cheek, lifting his arm and pressing her hand over the deep gashes. "Britton baby..." She coughed breathlessly, leaning over him.

[britton "britt" markus roberts]

Britt tried to pull away from her, but was far too weak. He closed his eyes, pulling weakly at his arm. "... no..." He breathed, tears falling down his cheeks. "Go.." He turned over onto his back, the ring in his hand falling to the floor. He knew he couldn't die. Dying would have been too easy. He coughed, looking dizzily at the wall before he closed his eyes again, still trying to pull his arm away.

"I don't.. want your help.. Just go home.." He mumbled, looking over the edge of he bed for he sing. But he couldn't find it.

[zoey ashlyn martyn]

Zoey bit her lip sadly, bending to pick up what he had dropped. She gazed at the ring curiously, then pressed it into his hand. "I don't want to go, Britt.. I don't care if you never want to see me again, I'm still gonna help you.. She gazed down at her shirt. It wasn't one of her nicer ones, and she pulled it off, reaching for the jacket near his bed and drawing it on to hide her chest. She ripped the shirt carefully, wrapping the gashes tightly. "Please, Britt... I don't wanna lose you...let me get you help.." She rubbed at her bruised arm, biting her lip.

[britton "britt" markus roberts]

Britt just looked blankly at the ceiling, tears falling down his cheeks. He wished he would die, but no matter what he did, he couldn't seem to. "No.. I don't... Want help.." He mumbled, taking in a slow breath before he closed his eyes, still trying to pull his arm away from her. But it had gone cold and numb by now.

"Go home already.." He muttered, turning his head away from her. He didn't want to look at her, didn't want anything to do with her. She hadn't wanted him earlier that night. he didn't know why he should care that she was here.

'You make her hate me, then send her after me? That doesn't make any sense..' Britt thought, trying to drift off into sleep again.

[zoey ashlyn martyn]

"Me trying to go home practically got me raped again, Britt.." She muttered, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I didn't want to go, you told me to." She pulled him up despite her height, pulling him outside and towards his truck, hefting him into the passengers seat and finding his keys before climbing in. She only had her permit, but didn't care, backing out carefully and heading to the clinic so he could get some stitches. The tears didn't stop, but she didn't brush them away either, eyes never straying from the road.

[britton "britt" markus roberts]

Britt groaned, but was far too weak to fight her. A million things ran through his head, the most prominent was that there was a scantily dressed sixteen year old driving him -a twenty four year old- to get stitches in his arm. 'They're gonna get the cops up there and test her for rape and put me in jail even if I haven't even fucking touched her..' He thought, slinking down sleepily in his sleep.

"You're fucking stubborn.." He muttered. He leaned against the door, reaching his other hand over to mess with the shirt around his arm.

[zoey ashlyn martyn]

"And?" She reached to button and zip her jeans, then zipped up his jacket to hide her bare torso, rubbing at her aching wrist again. "Don't touch it," She muttered, pulling up to the clinic and helping him in. "He needs stitches.." She mumbled, wiping at her cheeks. When asked who he was, she rattled of a shaky lie of him being her cousin. They obviously took the shakiness as being upset, but to Britt and anyone else, she was honestly not the best liar. She followed them to a room, watching the guy clean off his arm.

"What happened to you?" He glanced her way warily.
"I got jumped walking home.." Close enough, no waver. He numbed Britton's arm and began to sew up the gashes.