"You're a fucking liar," Stephanie says. I frown.

"What did I do?" I ask. It's been two weeks of Stephanie. Dimitri's always at work. She throws a thin file on the table. "What's this?"

"It's your fucking file. I hired a private invest-"

"You hired a fucking private investigator? How insecure are you?" I ask

"You're file's empty. Something's not right," she tells me. "He only found Camille Kincaid dating back two years. Care to explain?"

"I keep to myself." I look at her. "Why are you obsessed with me?"

"Wouldn't Michael like to know this?" she asks.

"Why do you call him Michael when he tells you to call him Dimitri?" I ask.

"Because that's what I fucking call him," she says.

"Great. How's your novel going? Whoops, wait a minute! You don't write novels," I say. Her palm smacks my cheek.

"Hit me, bitch." Her voice is high and nasal. "I want to see your lesbian ass in jail."

"You're not worth it." I start to walk away, but she shoves me. I spin around and she slaps me again.

"I know you want Michael," she says, shoving me again.

"You can fucking have him. Just leave me alone," I say as I start walking towards my room.

"You're a useless cunt," she says.

I didn't know how many days had gone by. All I knew was that Braxton never stopped. If he wasn't inside me, he was hitting me or worse.

My blood stained the carpet.

I didn't have any strength left to fight. I hurt everywhere. I knew he would have to stop at some point but I had no way of knowing when that was.

Braxton zipped up his pants. He had just finished. "You made me do this, Adelaide. Did you really think that you could throw me on trial and you wouldn't be punished?"

I whimpered.

"I guess you're just a useless cunt."

Before I know what's happening, my fist slams into the wall. I don't feel the pain. I'm just...numb.

I walk back to my room and lock the door. I sink against it and wrap my arms around my legs.

He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead.

Braxton can't hurt me anymore.

I crawl into the bed and my eyes shut.

My eyes open and I blink. My hand's throbbing. I must have fallen asleep for a few hours. I touch my hand and wince.
I walk into the kitchen.

Stephanie's crying, talking to Dimitri. I roll my eyes and grab an ice pack from the fridge. Dimitri says my name and I turn around.

"Huh?" I ask.

"Your hand?" He stands up and walks towards me. He picks up my hands before I can say anything. I wince. My hand's swollen and my knuckles are red.

"It's fine," I say. He looks at me and frowns.

"Does this hurt?" He presses down and I bite my lip.

"It's fine," I say again. He sighs.

"I'll call Jerome and have him take a look at it," Dimitri says. He rubs his finger gently over my hand. "What did you do?"

"Didn't Stephanie tell you?" I ask. She looks up and glares at me.

"She said you hit her," Dimitri says. I laugh.

"Look at the wall." I managed to make a dent. Dimitri's eyes widen. I pull my hand out of his. "I'm going back to my room."

I stick the ice on my hand and walk away. I don't know why, but for some reason, I can't stay here anymore.

I pick up my phone. "Dominique?" I ask.

"Yeah, what's up Ade?" she says.

"I need you to pick me up," I say.

"Okay, I'm on the way. But you better have a good explanation."

"Thanks, Dominique," I say. She ends the call. I sigh and start packing. There's not much to shove into my backpack. I make the bed and walk out.

"Are you going somewhere?" Dimitri asks. I turn around. He's leaning against his doorframe.

"I asked Dominique to come and get me," I say.

"Why?" he asks. I shrug.

"I'm not really welcome here," I say. "It's better for everyone if I go."

"Stephanie can go," Dimitri says. He walks closer to me.

"She's your girlfriend and I'm..." I look at him. "Just your client."

"Come on, Kincaid," Dimitri says. "I like to think we're friends."

Before I can say anything, Stephanie walks in. She sighs with disgust when she sees me. She starts talking to Dimitri and I walk into the living room.

Jerome and Dominique walk in together. Dominique smiles when she sees me.

"Hey, girl how's it going?" she asks. She frowns at my hand. "What the fuck did you do?"

I shrug. "Nothing."

Dimitri and Stephanie walk in. She's holding onto his arm. It's pretty awkward.

Dominique stands next to me. "Who's the skanky white hoe?" she whispers.

"Stephanie," I mutter.

"I'm guessing your name isn't Georgia?" Jerome says.

"It's Kincaid," I say. "My hand's fine."

"Can I take a look?" he asks. I nod and hold out my hand. He prods my hands gently. I wince. "What did you do?"

"I punched a wall," I say. Jerome looks up.

"Why?" he asks. "By the way, it looks sprained."

"I don't want to go to jail for assault," I tell Jerome. He frowns. "Stephanie and I don't get along."

"Oh, I get it." He lowers his voice, "Between you and me, I don't like her."

I smile. Dominique walks over. "How's your hand?" she asks. I shrug.

"It's fine." I smile. "Were you two together before you got here?"

"We just went out for a drink," Jerome says. "Hey, Michael! You got something to wrap her hand with?" Stephanie and Dimitri are standing a few feet away from us. Dimitri nods and walks away.

Dimitri comes back and hands Jerome something. Jerome quickly bandages my hand.

"Well, Dominique and I should go," I say.

"You're sure?" Dimitri asks. I nod. He sighs. "I'll be in contact with you."

"Bye," Dominique says as we walk away. She doesn't say anything until we're on the bus.

"Why'd you leave?" she asks. I shrug and rub my hand.

"I just couldn't stay."