Chapter Twenty-One

~~Hey all, I have decided to do a challenge thing. Whoever can tell me what one of my books I'm referencing at one point in this chapter first will receive a dedication/tag in the next chapter. If however a few days go by and no one guesses I'll just uh take this down and pretend it never happened while I hide in the corner in embarrassment ahaha... So look out for the reference! And may the odds ever be in your favor. Wow yeah I butchered that didn't I? Vote, comment, fan, share and all that.~~

{Chapter Twenty-One}

After I get out of the shower I put on a pair of clean blue jeans, a dark blue shirt, and boots. I fix my blonde hair by running a quick hand through it before slipping my phone into my pocket. I pick my keys up off my bed and glance around, trying to think of something I may be forgetting. Maybe I forgot to do something, anything that could prolong the inevitable talk with Ian.

I want to talk to him, I really do, but at the same time I'm terrified that he's going to get mad at me again. Hell, I'm giving myself the benefit of the doubt, what if he doesn't even talk to me? Or God forbid his dads decide not to have pity for me and instead follow through with their threats to kill me for hurting Ian.

But I guess, as Mom says, I never know until I try. I can't possibly know if he'll talk to me or not unless I try to talk to him.

So with a small, very small, amount of resolve I manage to step out of my room. I close my door and heave a sigh as I make my way down the stairs. I pass by the living room, noticing Mom and Dad are watching some movie on the TV, no doubt enjoying their time with each other while they're both off work.

"I'm going to hang out with some friends, I'll be back later. If not I'll call." I add and Mom waves her hand to me without taking her eyes off of the animated movie.

"Okay, sweetie, we'll see you later. Tell me if you won't be back for dinner." She adds sternly and I smile a bit.

"Okay, Mom. See you later. Love you guys." I add before passing the living room and moving to the front door. I pull it open, close it behind me, and walk across the lawn to the car.

I unlock it with the remote and slide in, plugging my phone into the speakers to play music. I shift into reverse and pull out of my driveway, a pool of dread filling my stomach. I drive past houses in a blur, hardly registering the lyrics of the song playing in the car right now. Hardly registering anything actually.

I had no idea I could feel this nervous about talking to someone, but apparently I can. What if Ian doesn't want this? What if he tells me it's either him or nothing? I can't leave Jer, I can't. But I can't not be with Ian either, I love them so much.

I jump in surprise when a loud honk sounds from outside the car, making me realize I've been idling at this now-green light longer than I should. I quickly pull off the brake and turn into the small neighborhood where Ian lives. I pull up to his house minutes later, groaning when I see both Ian's dads' cars in the driveway along with Ian's car.

I put the car in park, take the keys from the engine and sit in the car for a few minutes. I look down at my black leather steering wheel, the gold Chevy emblem molded into the horn. Of course, I realize I'm only stalling by doing this so I force myself out of the safety of my car and force my legs to move across the yellowing grass of the lawn to the front door.

I put my hand up, swallowing hard before I knock three loud times on the door. A minute or so later none other than Owen Kelly in his leather clad, six foot something glory, answers the door, staring at me with some sort of emotion I can't decipher. I can only hope it isn't anger, fury, or anything remotely similar.

"Levy." He states in a monotone.

"Uhm, yeah, hi Mr. Kelly. I know you probably want to kill me but--"

"We were expecting you." He interrupts me and I stare at him in confused curiosity. Why would they be expecting him? Them as in who exactly?

"Oh?" I squeak, the possibility of getting murdered and made into dog food makes me more nervous by the minute. It doesn't actually help that I told Mom I was with friends, so no one knows I'm here. Except Jer. That eases a small amount of my nerves but it doesn't help too much.

However, when Owen opens the front door wide, stepping aside to let me in, I realize I probably don't have too much to be worried about. So I step through the door, hearing it close behind me once I'm inside the warm house.

"He's in his room, go on up but...be careful." Owen adds with a shrug before moving past me to some other part of the house, probably to torture the innocent or something. I roll my eyes at my own thoughts, moving through the familiar homey hall up the stairs and straight to Ian's bedroom door.

I stare at the piece of painted wood as if the Devil himself made it before I gather my courage and knock. After a few seconds without a response I decide to try the handle, realizing it's unlocked. I push the door open, slipping into the room quickly before closing the door behind me. I turn back and smile a bit when my eyes land on Ian's messy brown hair.

He's sitting with his back to me at his desk, typing so fast I'm surprised he isn't breaking the computer keys. Hell, I'm surprised he can even type that fast without his fingers hurting. Nonetheless I do realize he also has his earbuds in, mostly because I can hear the hints of heavy metal all the way over here. It bugs me that he's blaring music, especially heavy metal, as that could damage his hearing severely but I push those thoughts away. This is not the time nor the place to lecture him about the dangers of hearing loss.

I move across the room, resisting the urge to wrap him in my arms and tell him I'm horribly sorry. Instead I stop behind him, reaching out to touch him but I pause when my eyes land on the words he's typing so quickly.

"Do it Ares and everything will be okay, I promise." The devil coaxes in my ear.

No one but me can save myself, but it's too late

Now I can't think, think why I should even try

Yesterday seems as though it never existed

Death greets me warm, now I will just say goodbye

Goodbye...

I force my eyes away from the screen and instead rest my hand on Ian's shoulder. He jumps but doesn't turn as he continues to type furiously.

"Leave me alone, Owen. I already ate today, I'm fine." He mumbles, his voice so low I can hardly hear it. It's so rough, so different from his usual bright, bubbly voice.

"Ian." I call, shaking him a bit.

"Owen," he growls in the same gravely voice that tells me he hasn't had anything to drink in a while. He yanks his earbuds out and turns in his swivel chair to glare at me but his face goes completely blank when he realizes it's me, not his scary dad Owen.

My heart, of course, breaks and soars at the same time. I love seeing his beautiful nearly white, gray eyes, his kissable lips. But at the same time I can tell something is off. His usually bright gray eyes are dark, his lips turned down in nothing resembling his usual carefree smile. He looks exactly the same but somehow completely different.

"What are you doing in my room?" he demands, shutting the screen on his laptop before standing from the chair.

"I want to talk to you," I reply honestly. He stares at me, unblinking before he runs a hand roughly through his brown hair, moving past me to his bed.

"No, you're not supposed to be here. I told my dads not to let you in." He states as he pulls his nightstand drawer open as if searching for something. He apparently doesn't find it because he heaves a deep sigh before closing the drawer roughly.

"Hear me out," I plead and he turns to me, eyes sharp.

"Why?"

"Because I can't stand not being around you. I lo--"

"No." He growls, taking a few threatening steps towards me but apparently thinks better of it because he moves to his bed, smoothing out a wrinkle in the blanket.

"Yes, I love you Ian. And I hate that I can't talk to you. I miss you." I add. He snorts, moving across the room to move a few books around on the large bookshelf he has.

"Jansen goes after Janknis." He mumbles and I stare at him for a minute in utter confusion. Who is Jansen and Jenknis? What does that have to do with us?

"What?" I ask in utter confusion and he turns to me, a foreign emotion in his wide gray eyes. It's a stark contrast to his previously blank face but whatever that is, it isn't something I ever want to see in Ian's eyes. It looks almost insane, or lost.

"How did I not see it? I put Marr in front of Mannuel." He states, turning back to the bookshelf and removing numerous books. I realize he's talking about the authors. He's putting them in alphabetical order. I still have no idea why he's worrying about that right now of all times and it bothers me quite a bit.

"Um yeah, R would go after N. Ian, are you listening to me?" I whisper but he merely mumbles things to himself.

"Black. Black eyes. They were horrible." He mutters, removing half the books on his bookshelf and putting them on the floor.

"Who had black eyes?" I question, moving towards him cautiously. I figured he wouldn't be too happy to see me, and would probably be mad, but I don't even know what's going on. He doesn't seem mad, he is talking to me so that's something. But he's definitely not his self, something's wrong.

"He did. He was so nice. So handsome. But his eyes, they always felt wrong." He continues, seeming to be talking to himself. Something is definitely wrong, and it's making me wonder if I should call out for one of his dads, maybe they know what's going on.

"How were they wrong?" I probe, relieved he's talking to me but increasingly worried about what's wrong.

"Evil." He replies, looking up at the ceiling, seeming to completely forget about the books.

"Evil?" I echo while he nods.

"His eyes were evil. I ignored it, I liked him. A demon in a pretty mask." He adds with dead laughter I would never expect to come from him. It's so empty, devoid of any emotion; it makes me flinch.

"Dads were gone, they had gone out for dinner. He came over, I knew something was wrong. Something felt wrong. It feels wrong." He states, seeming to relive some kind of memory.

"Something's wrong with him. I don't ask about it though because if I bring it up he's going to be mad. I don't want to make him mad again. He's leading me to the bedroom. Why is he leading me to my room? I thought we were watching movies."

My heart clenches as I realize, probably too late, what he's remembering, or reliving rather.

"Ian, look at me." I order but he doesn't seem to hear me as he mumbles a few things to himself. "Ian." I hiss, moving to stand in front of him but his eyes are closed as his body begins to tremble.

"He locks the door behind us, I don't know why though. My dads are gone so what's the point? When he turns to me his black eyes lock on me. It's uncomfortable. I don't like this look, it's different then most of the looks he gives me. I have to ask him what's wrong. But if I do he might get mad. I should just stay quiet like he's told me to do so many times before. I need to shut up like he says."

"Ian, open your eyes." I try again, waving my hand in front of his closed eyes.

"What are you looking at? I have to ask with a small laugh. He seems to lick his lips before moving towards me quickly. I don't realize what he's intending to do until his fingers are fumbling to unbutton my jeans. No. Stop. He doesn't. No, stop. I don't want to do this." His breathing becomes more labored and I begin to panic. I don't know what to do. I don't want him to go through this, not again.

"Ian, baby, look at me. Open your eyes, babe. Look at me, focus on me. On me, Levy, not him." I urge, reaching out to touch him but he flinches.

"No." He gasps in pain and my heart shatters.

"Baby, come on, look at me. Open your eyes, please." I add, reaching out one more time to touch him. He doesn't flinch this time so I quickly pull him into my arms, tightening them around him as I whisper soothing things in his ear while stroking his hair.

"Come on babe, stop thinking about that. Focus on me." I whisper and he gasps. He pulls away from me quickly, stumbling back as his eyes go wide when he looks around his room.

"Oh god." He mumbles, his eyes becoming glassy as he tries to hold back tears. My heart clenches and I bite my lip hard before I pull him into my arms.

"It's going to be okay, babe." I murmur softly as I run my fingers through his hair soothingly. "I promise."