“We will figure it out. We won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I don’t understand why someone’s doing this to me,” I cry into his shirt. I hate it more that Asher is dealing with this too. If something happened to him because of me, I don’t know what I would do. “Can you give me a minute?” I ask, pulling out of his hug and wiping my eyes.
“Sure, darling.”
I shut the bathroom door, turn around to the vanity, and look at myself. My eyes are blood shot. I tie my hair up quickly and turn on the cold water then start splashing my face. I need to brush my teeth, but I’m not ready to leave the safety of these four walls. I know that once I walk out that door, I’m going to be asked more questions that I don’t have the answers to. I rinse my mouth a few times jump up on the counter and try to think of anyone who would do this to me. I can’t think of anyone that I’ve wronged. There isn’t anyone that dislikes me enough to try to kill me or stalk me to another state and harass me. Then I start to wonder where they have been during the last few months. Nothing has happened since a week before Thanksgiving. Not that I missed them, but why did they go away, and why are they back now?
“November!” Asher bellows from the front door. I hop off the counter and start to open the bathroom door when it is shoved open and hits me in the head.
“Shit!” I cry and my hands go to my forehead where the door just slammed into me.
“Jesus Christ! Baby, are you okay?” I don’t know if I am alright. I know my head hurts a lot. Who the heck opens a door with that much force? “Let me see,” he says, pulling my hands away from my face. “Fuck!” he shouts and I know from the look on his face that I don’t want to see the damage. I now have a headache on top of all the other crap.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.” He looks really upset. Jeez, it hurt, but it wasn’t bleeding. How bad could it be? I turn to the mirror and want to laugh. I have a bright red and purple mark in the center of my forehead. I look like Harry Potter. I start to giggle and Asher’s eyes narrow. “This shit’s not funny. I could have really hurt you.”
“I know that,” I snap. “What the heck are you? The Incredible Hulk or something? Seriously, who opens a door to a bathroom like that?”
“Dad pointed out that you were in here. I didn’t even think. I just had to make sure you were okay.”
Now I feel bad. “Sorry, it just hurts,” I say softly, feeling like a total bitch. He always worries. Even when I’m safe, he worries, so now that I’m actually in danger, I might as well handcuff myself to him.
He kisses the mark. “So, why were you laughing?” he asks, wrapping me in a hug.
“I was laughing because I look like Harry Potter.” His eyes come back to my face and his lips twitch. I glare at him. “Now I’m going to have to give myself bangs to hide it so I don’t have to listen to your stupid brothers and the jokes they’ll make about it,” I say, pointing to my forehead.
“They love you.” They do, I know they do. We have become great friends. I know if Asher wasn’t around, I could count on any of them to help me out with whatever was wrong. And they aren’t perverted, just brotherly. For that, I am thankful.
Now Sven, he is a different story. He makes me uncomfortable. I’m not sure if it’s because he is handsome, or if it is just him as a person. Sometimes the way he looks at me or the words he uses makes it seem like he is coming onto me. But I’ve seen him in action when we all went to the bar together. I know that when he comes on to a girl, he doesn’t hold anything back. He is over-the-top aggressive and women still swarm him like a bee to honey. One day, when he meets a girl he’s serious about, she’s going to have to be really strong in order to deal with his personality.
“I know they love me,” I grumble.
“Is everything okay?” Mr. Mayson asks from outside the door. I step away from Asher and open the door. Mr. Mayson looks down at me. “What the fuck?” he asks, looking up at Asher.
“It’s fine. I just need to put some ice on it and take some aspirin,” I say, stepping around him.
“How did it happen?”
“It’s either because your son is the Incredible Hulk or he has a thing for Harry Potter,” I say over my shoulder. I laugh when I hear Asher groan.
“It’s my fault,” Asher says, picking me up and setting me on the counter, removing me from where I was standing in front of the fridge. “The door hit her when I shoved it open to get to her.” I watch him go to the drawer and grab a baggie then back to the fridge. He fills it with ice wraps it in a kitchen towel and brings it to me and presses it to my head.