*James*

The minute the elevator doors open I rush out, almost knocking Trisha over as she enters.  I hear her call my name, but I ignore her and head straight to my car. Once inside I hit the steering wheel with my hands and then rest my forehead on it. 

I KNEW this was going to happen. He can't keep his damn hands off her. She's not mentally well and he is taking advantage of her.

The first place I go, just like my fucking father, is to the bar to get drunk.

I walk in and Uncle Mac gives me a nod but studies my distraught face when I sit at the bar in Sullivan's. This is the one place I can go where Joe cannot.  Mac won't have it, and he'll call the cops no problem.

The pub is busy as always. It looks like Demi Lovato is hanging out in the corner with a few friends, which is attracting a crowd. Not regular people like me. Celebrities. I look away and give everyone their privacy. The reason I'm here is because this place is my uncle's and my drinks are free.

I take a deep breath as Uncle Mac dries some glasses and heads over to me.

"What's wrong James?" He furrows his brow at me. I scratch the back of my head and while doing so my short sleeve shirt rides up on my arm a little and my uncle notices right away. I quick lower my arm and pull at my sleeve.

"Did your father do that???" He puts glass down and pours me a glass of whiskey before I have a chance to answer. I don't bother.  Uncle Mac already knows what the answer is.

"Sonofabitch." He says under his breath while I sip my whiskey. He knows there's nothing that can be done. Jackass Joe has friends on the police force. Good friends. Not only that, if I were to get a restraining order, we all fear he will do something REALLY bad to one of us. I rather him do it to me but have a feeling he will go straight to one of my sisters or ma, because he knows that will hurt me more. But that's not why I'm even upset. Right now, I could care less about my fuckhead father. It's Nate that I can't stand. 

He could get any woman. ANY FUCKING WOMAN in the world. Why does he take the ONE woman I'm in love with? We both know she is better with me. She can get back on track, healthy... with me. Not him. He's unstable, uncommitted and lives a stressful life in the limelight for everyone to see his every move and judge. Julia can't handle that life. She needs a simple life. She needs to be in my life.

*****

*Trisha*

Hey, what's up hot stuff's ass today? He almost knocked me over coming out of the..." There's a raw moment of silence. I look around Nate's apartment. The place is trashed, and no one is in the main living room. Did we have a break in? Where is everyone? Where is Nate?

 "Holy shit. Nate??" U run down the hall, stepping over shattered things while doing so. I pass by the guest bathroom and see the scene. Broken mirror.  Broken everything. Shattered glass and blood.

"Oh my God!" I freeze at the sight for a second before continuing down the hall.

"Nate?!!"

He doesn't answer.

Nate's sitting in his wheelchair staring at the closed bathroom door with both hands to his mouth in the praying position. Tears are dripping down his face into his lap.

"Oh my God, are you ok? What's going on?"  I look him over and practically pat him down thinking he's the one that got hurt in some way. But it wasn't him. He's fine, but in shock.

"I fucked up."  It's the only thing Nate says. "I fucked everything up." He repeats.

After a few minutes of Nate giving me the silent treatment and not answering one God damn question, I give up and decide to just sit on the edge of his bed and hold his hand while he stares at the bathroom door. 

"This is all Cara. Just like her. All that blood. The destruction. The not caring how bad you hurt yourself in the middle of a fit. It all screams mental health facility. All because I fucking screwed up. I knew the state she was in. She was already struggling. I should have never kissed her."

"What?" I'm now staring at him. He pays no attention to me, and I squeeze his hand harder while his eyes remain on the bathroom door. We both hear screaming and crying from Julia.  What the hell happened???? 

Eventually it subsides and Julia seems to have calmed down or something.

"Nate. Please tell me what the hell is going on." I ask him again.

"Trisha. I need you to clean up the shit she broke in the house."  Nate says in a calm monotoned voice, talking to the bathroom door. 

"JULIA did all that?" My eyes widen. Oh my God. What the fuck did she do! 

"TRISH. Clean up the fucking mess. Please!" Nate finally looks at me with tears streaming down his face as he wipes his runny nose with the back of his hand. "Please. I can't. I need your help."

The look on his face, a sobbing mess, when he finally turned to me, was enough for me to just nod multiple times and leave the room. I find the broom and dustpan in the hall closet and start sweeping up broken ceramic by the front door. I can't bring myself to do the guest bathroom with the blood.

Paul is the first to enter the living room. Jonah heads straight to the guest bedroom and slams the door.

"Paul, what's going on??" I put the broom down and rush over to sit on the couch next to him. His face is pale.  He runs his hands through his dark hair before making eye contact with.

"She's not well." 

That's all I get out of Paul. 

No one is able to tell me a thing.

*****

*James*

I only have one glass of whiskey and then switch to water. Last thing I need is to become more like my father, or friggen Nate Hollan. My cousin Natalie sees me, but I shake my head, pretty much giving her the signal I don't want to talk so don't bother wasting your time.

An hour goes by where I just zone out before my phone gets my attention. I pull it out of my back pocket and see a text from Paul.

[ I don't know what happened, but you need to get back to Nates asap]

That's the only thing Paul texts. No description, nothing. 

I don't respond. I grab my keys and head back to Hollan's house.