97Chapter 15:The Last of Devante
I glance at myself in the mirror. My hair was messed up, I had no make-up on (except that bit to cover my cuts and bruises), and I was wearing the ugliest clothes I owned. I looked terrible and I was satisfied.
"Master Stephen, am I permitted to go out for a while?" I asked, trying to sound lowly. I didn't wanna mess with Stephen right now; I had to go see Devante.
"Yes dear." He replied from his room.
I walked out before he objected and changed his mind.
"Dior!" Devante yelled with joy the minute he saw me. He enveloped me into a death hug.
"Devante, hi." I slowly said.
He let go of me so he could see me. He searched my face to see if I had changed, but gave up 'cause he found none. "Are you alright?"
"Of course, what do you think?" I retorted, trying to be my old self.
"Are you sure?" He asked still concerned.
"Yes."
"Well, com'on! We're gonna be late for our date." He told me, dragging me along.
I yanked myself free.
"Devante, we can't go out any more." I quietly said.
"What?" He asked.
"We can't go out. I've moved on and you must do the same."
"WHAT?!" He exclaimed.
"Devante, please, just let me go." I told him, holding back my tears.
He grabbed my arm. "No."
"No?" I asked, turning back.
"NO. I lost you once, I'm not losing you again." He gripped my arm tighter.
"Good-bye Devante." I yanked my arm free and ran.
I didn't stop running, I kept running and running, feeling my tears fall upon the ground. I had known it was gonna be hard, but I never figured it would be that hard. My heart broke out in tears again, for the fifth time that day, I felt it break; piece by piece.
"Dior, come here dear." Stephen said to me one day. He had his friends over, and was surprisingly in a good mood; not that I know if it's better for me when he's happy or angry.
I went over cautiously.
"Stand over there." He pointed his arm towards the empty wall.
"Here?" I asked, unsure.
"Yep, now just stand still." He commanded.
I did so, not knowing what the lunatic was thinking.
Then I knew; the four of them, including Stephen, were holding darts.
"Now is this exciting or not?" Stephen asked them.
"Yea man, this is thrilling." One of them replied.
"Ok, you can't hit her, but everyone makes mistakes…." I saw Stephen grin with satisfaction as he cast a dart at me; it skimmed my face and cut it before going into the wall.
"Who's next?" Stephen asked.
"Drake, you go next." One of them offered. A blonde bloke stepped aside and aimed another dart at me.
It cut me near my collarbone. I screamed for both pain and horror. What kinda people use their wives as target for darts?!
"OoOoOo…looks like she's scared!" A brunet observed.
"I am not!" I yelled at him through my flowing tears and blood.
"Let's see then!" He took his dart and sent a dart at me; it went half way into my arm.
I shrieked in horror.
"Thought so." The same brunet said with a smirk.
"My turn." The last guy said.
"Ok, quickly now, I find this very boring again." Stephen yawned.
The last guy aimed one last dart at me. It went into my leg a bit.
"You heartless cruel idiots!" I yelled.
They just shrugged and left the room with me still injured.
I felt tears flood my eyes. A week hasn't even passed yet, and I had been hurt numerous times. I reached out to pull the dart from my arm, but before I could even pull it out a bit, I screamed despite the pain. I didn't attempt to do so again.
Then I saw someone walk over to me. It was the same brunet who had taunted me.
"Go away!" I yelled.
He didn't say anything; he just reached over to my wounded arm and gently pulled it out. I wailed, but not as much as before.
"Are you alright?" He asked with concern; that just make tears spill out of my eyes; he reminded me of Devante.
"Yes…." I managed to stutter.
"I'm sorry for what I did before." He apologized.
I nodded.
"Stay still." He ordered.
I did. He removed the dart from my shoulder/ collarbone. I cried out and dug my fingernails into him. After the dart was out, he glanced down as his arm; it was bleeding because of me.
"I'm sorry…" I quietly said.
"It's ok. Now one more."
I nodded again.
He yanked out the last dart as I screamed in pain again.
He turned to go.
"Thanks." I murmured as I tried to get up. I fell to the ground with a thud.
Immediately, he returned to help me up. I looked up at him, our eyes locked and he gave me a smile.
He brought me to the couch and left.
I was paralysed. Why did he just help me? Wasn't he another one of Stephen's cruel mates? Or is this all a set-up?
He returned with the first aid kit. Hurriedly, he bandaged my wounds and left. I just sat there, in shock.
"Hello?" I said into the speaker of my phone.
"Dior?" It was Devante.
"Yes?" I asked slowly.
"Dior, why can't we go out any more?" Devante asked, getting to the point.
"'Cause we can't." I replied.
"'Cause what?! What's going on?!" He questioned, his voice rising.
"I'm sorry Devante, but we can't." I replied.
"Tell me why!"
I took a deep breath; I knew Devante, he wouldn't give up unless I said something.
"Devante, I've moved on, I'll never like you again." I managed to stammer.
I never got a reply from him; he was just quiet for a second, then the line went dead.
That was the last time I heard Devante's voice.
I never saw him again.