"Stronger than lover's love is lover's hate. Incurable, in each, the wounds they make."

Morgan Ann Bennett

I stepped through the sliding glass door to hear X on the phone better.

"Yeah, I can hear you now. What did you say?" I talked with one finger plugging my other ear.

"I said Malcolm is fine, they'll release him in the morning."

"Awesome." I couldn't have said that anymore sarcastically.

"Be at Malcolm's getting ready before he's home in the morning. I'll check in later."

"You really don't have to." I gritted my teeth, ending the call.

One more day, Morgan, one more day, I told myself in my head.

With a sigh, I was ready to walk around the in-ground pool and head back inside but someone suddenly grabbed me from the back.

"Congratulations." Chris teased, kissing my cheek. His lips were wet and warm and he held me with one arm, the other holding his second nearly empty bottle of beer.

"Shut up," I nagged, rolling my eyes back as I swayed with him on the cement.

"You're going to look so beautiful in your wedding dress. Should I— should I bring a plus one?"

I elbowed him in the stomach. "If you want her to die."

He laughed and released me but made me do a spin first.

"I love you," he said before a kiss. "I need you to know that."

"I do," I said, eyes on his. "And I love you."

I pecked his lips once more and then smiled against them.

"Give me some!" I reached for his bottle and started a whole wrestling match.

Chris started to tickle my rib cage and I got hysterical.

"Guys," Izzy suddenly appeared. "get in here, look at this."

I pushed Chris away from my body and blew a raspberry at him. "Not fair."

We walked inside together, kicking each other's butts and knees in, trailing Izzy.

What was just a rager of a "bachelorette party" before I stepped outside became what looked like and was as quiet as Sunday school.

Once Chris and I sat in the living room with everyone else, Mary unmuted the live tv.

"—We're outside of Penshaw's restaurant, The Q, where citizens protest against the owner, Malcolm Jameson." A news reported announced.

"OUR KIDS DESERVE TO DIE OLD!" A local yelled into the mic.

"What? What happened? Turn it up." Chris demanded.

I swallowed hard, unsure what to expect.

The anchor went on. "A record number of teenagers have overdosed in the past year, citizens blame this on Jameson who is reportedly in the hospital tonight. Just months ago, he himself suffered an overdose, luckily for him, it wasn't fatal. Not luckily for the Adams family, though, they're fifteen-year-old daughter, Maya, has just been announced dead from a fatal dosage of cocaine. Witnesses who were at the party with Maya say she was laced, others say she mistook it for something else as other party goers had crushed ecstasy and inhaled that."

"Fifteen? Damn." JB said what we were all thinking.

"That is so sad." Jasmine commented, her hand over her heart.

"Why does she look so familiar?" Mary asked the room.

Then, a family photo appeared on the screen and even I recognized Mady Adams, Chris's old friend from high school, otherwise known as Tawny.

I hung my head with sorrow. Kids do deserve to grow old, everyone does.
I was never her biggest fan but if I could see Mady now, I'd give her the biggest hug. Losing a sister can be like losing part of yourself.

Chris stood and walked to the kitchen where he made a phone call.

The room remained silent as the news went to a commercial so Mary muted the tv again.

"We have to do something about the drugs." Lee said lowly.

"Shit's not right," Sherry added, getting worked up. "It's that damn Malcolm!"

That's when the door opened and in walked Carter. Or should I say, stumbled.
His button-up was wrinkled and fastened crooked. He was drunk, slurring his words.

"D-did you all see the news?" He burped.

Carter raised his own hand and made way into the living room, standing over everyone.

"I did. They're down there protesting right now, but he isn't even there. That little bitch, Malcolm, is probably hiding in some bunker. Son of a bitch had this whole town fooled. Not me."

"Carter..." Mary sounded embarrassed. She sat in the chair with her ankles crossed, rubbing her forehead as if stressed, and I can imagine she was.

"He threw his money around and got a piece of the restaurant that, oh — news flash— he turned into a TITTY BAR, by the way; I know 'cause I was just there. Then he tries to get married and act like he has a heart. He's out here killing kids with his drugs and is trying to act like he is sanctified all of a sudden."

Chris returned to us. "That was Mady. She didn't say much but she's okay, her parents on the other hand..."

"I'm sorry, Chris." Cleo remarked, sobering up.

I pulled Chris down onto the couch so I could comfort him because he knew Maya as a kid and all this death is very taxing.
I rubbed his back and asked if there was anything I could do.

"I know what you can do," Carter snickered at me, "you can go be with your goddamn sugar daddy. Where is he, huh?! You sat back and got engaged to him, knowing what he does, you're just as bad!"

I could hardly even hear a word Carter said, I tuned him out seeing the way Chris's leg shook. His first clenched and I just knew he was about to erupt with anger on his father.

"Disrespect her again." Chris spoke calmly at first. "I dare you, go ahead. Say one more thing and I swear to God, ima fuck you up!" He roared, hand slamming on the glass table before he stood finally.

Gasps were let out and a scream from Mary.

"CHRIS!" She tried calming him down but couldn't.

JB held Mr.Vaughn back while Lee stood in front of Chris to prevent him from charging.

Having learned my lesson from before, I just got out of the way. I wasn't about to be yelled at, pushed, or accidentally punched.

"I've never been more serious about anything in life." Chris swore, staring directly at his father.

Carter stole a look at me, then Chris, and then he threw his hands up.

"They're good, boys," Mary said to JB and Lee. "why don't we all go outside for a second?" She led the party out through the back, leaving Chris, his father, and myself.

"How many times do we have to do this? I'm with Morgan, I love her, and I'm handling the other shit. If you can't accept her then you won't see me anymore because I'm not dealing with this weird shit you got going on." Chris made known while I let them continue as if I weren't still in the room.

Carter put his head in his hands. "Clearly I've offended you two. I-I didn't mean to, I'm just trying to be a-a good father. Just let me be that."

"You're drunk, Dad." I was surprised Chris even called him that.

Carter fell over the arm of the sofa and laid there until his drunken body slipped off the cushion.

"Come on." Chris grabbed my hand.

"We're leaving?" I asked, following him blindly. "but it's my party-"

~

We finally arrived back to his apartment after a quiet car ride. Music played and his thoughts were loud but we didn't say a word to each other so it felt lonely.

I changed into a t-shirt and got ready for bed when
Chris returned from having watched a game in the living room.

"Hey." I talked softly, watching Chris navigate around the room in the dark.

He clicked on a light and changed into a pair of shorts for bed.

"Hey, babe." Chris's sleepy voice returned.

It had been a long day so I couldn't blame him for wanting to get some shut eye but I had other plans.

I crawled to the end of the bed where Chris sat to text Cleo and make sure she was okay while she went out with Lee and Izzy.

Chris's broad shoulders were tense so I massaged them.

"That feels good." He moaned, tossing his head back.

I smiled with pleasure. "It was hot how you stood up to your dad for me."

Chris chuckled lightly. "Not now, Morgan."

"I like how you handled it. It was sexy, I was like 'that's my man, I'm so proud, I'm gonna suck his dick later.'" I giggled, kissing down his neck.

His eyebrow raised with intrigue and I bit my lip, climbing around his body so I could situate myself on his lap.

I peeled my (his) large tee off and revealed my naked body underneath but instantly felt regret once I saw the ghostly expression of Chris's eyes.

Shit, the bruises. And I don't mean his hickies.

"What happened?" Chris asked. He was shocked after not having seen the bruises last night since we kept the lights off and I wore layers all day.

"I fell." Lie.

I lied and hating doing so, you'd think I learned my lesson already but I was terrified of Chris's reaction.

I quickly covered myself back up with the shirt and paced along the area rug.

Chris stood and forcefully turned me around so he could examine my flesh.

A single tear sizzled when it hit my cheek. For some reason, more than any other emotion, I felt embarrassed.

Chris spotted the bruises on my shoulder blade and asked me in a growl, "Did he do this?"

When I whispered, "no," Chris's chest puffed and he
had this crazed look in his eyes like he was going to hit something — or someone— if I didn't fess up. So I did.

"Is he hitting you, Morgan?" Chris restated his initial question.

"Stop looking at me like that, okay?" I snatched away. "And, it's fine, I'm handling it."

"Don't tell me to stop, what the fuck?" Chris yelled. "Is this what you call handling it?" He alluded to my bruising.

"He was drunk, I was complaining, saying I was going to leave him. I tried packing my things and getting out but he grabbed me and push— I fell into some glass and then down the stairs." I told, ashamed.

"But he didn't hit me." I stated.

I've never seen Chris with such a calm demeanor. He's usually chill, not calm. This was, like, still. He was still. No animated "you got me fucked up" facial expression. No furrowed brows or clenched jaw and fists.

I didn't want to get him riled up but the silence was killing me.
"Say something." I begged, sitting in between his legs.

Chris's eyes were dead, nothing behind them. Except for one thing. . .

"I have a plan," he said, hands at the back of my head. "but I need you to lay low like nothing's happening. And I need you to trust me."

~~ To Be Continued ~~