What I should have done Chapter 2

"Eli, I don't know what to tell you. I just can't do this anymore." I put my face in my hands and leaned forward on the front porch steps that I was sitting on. He'd shown up at 11, it was nearly midnight and he was still standing there arguing with me about my decision to end our relationship. "You're controlling and honestly you're a loose cannon these days. I never know when you're just going to blow up.

"Clare you're not listening to me!" I rolled my eyes when I saw him stomp his foot and then punch the wooden railing of the porch. He grimaced and then I saw the smirk slightly grace his lips. I really think he enjoyed being in pain.

"I am listening to you. I've been listening to you for the last hour." I was at my wits end. I couldn't deal with him anymore. I was tired and had so much more on my mind than Eli and his mood swings.

For example, it was nearly midnight and that was about the time that Fitz would be over. Don't get me wrong, Fitz and I weren't an item, boyfriend and girlfriend, or even friends. I was his outlet. He came over every single night a few minutes past midnight. I should have told him no, locked the door and refused to speak to him. But I never did. I always willingly let him in, snuck him past my parents' room and agreeably let him use me. As soon as he'd finish with me he would get up, get dressed and he'd be gone just like that first night. I should have hated him, hated myself, but I didn't. I became accustomed to the hour that he spent with me each night, even if it was purely a way for him to make himself feel better. He never held me afterward and there were no sweet kisses or soft words of affection.

"Eli, you need to leave. I need to go to bed, it's Midnight." I hoped if Fitz showed up that he would have enough sense to keep himself hidden until Eli left.

I didn't expect Eli to grab my arms and squeeze hard enough to leave dark red marks in his fingers' destructive wake. I didn't expect him to be strong enough to hold me there while he yelled at me for giving up on him, giving up on us. I really didn't expect Fitz to come barreling around the side of my house and knock Eli on his ass in one swift motion.

"You fucking ever touch her again and the next time you're in that hearse you'll be in a pine box." Fitz wasn't looking at Eli when he venomously spoke; he was inspecting the darkening marks on my arms. I should have been afraid of him; I should have told them both to go to hell and then ran inside. But it was in that moment that I realized I wasn't just allowing this arrangement with Fitz to go on because I wanted to help him, because I knew he needed me. I needed him too.

I watched as Eli stood and backed up slowly. "Is he the reason you don't wear your purity ring anymore?" Eli kept steadily backing down the front yard to his hearse.

I didn't answer, I just stood there frozen. He gave one last menacing look, but when Fitz took a step toward him he fled and rushed to his ride. I watched as Fitz's spine relaxed when Eli screeched down the street and he turned toward me.

"Come on, my parents are asleep." I slipped the t-shirt I had on over my tank top off as I walked up the stairs and reached for the door. He was looking at me differently than he had in the past three weeks. Every night without fail he would come over, have sex with me, and then leave. No emotion, nothing, just sex.

He followed behind me, much more closely than any other time he'd come up to my room. He wasn't acting the same. I began undressing, stripping down to my bra and underwear. Normally he would have already been completely naked, ready to take me hard and fast, but he was just watching me. I gave him a confused look and reached back to unhook my bra. I was used to this, undressing myself and then getting into whatever position he barked at me.

"Did he ever hurt you like that before?" Fitz's voice was quiet and he wasn't staring at my newly exposed chest or the cotton panties I still wore. Instead, he was staring at the marks Eli had left on my forearms. His eyes roved higher to the light green, barely recognizable bruises on my shoulders. I shook my head in the negative and he crossed the room in two quick strides. His warm hand felt like heaven against the skin of my shoulder. "Then this is from…?" He didn't finish the sentence, but he knew he'd been rough with me several times we'd had sex.

"They don't hurt." I shrugged. What else could I say? I should have said that he shouldn't have grabbed me so roughly when he came over a few nights ago. I should have said that I wanted so badly for him to treat me like I was more than just an outlet for his frustration. I should have done what I would have if he was any other guy. But he wasn't another guy, he was Fitz. I knew he wasn't rough with me on purpose, he was struggling and all I wanted was to make him feel better.

"I did that?" His voice cracked with emotion and his hand moved gently to my slightly marred shoulder. "God, what am I fucking doing?" his other hand came to rest softly on my hip and his t-shirt clad chest pressed against mine.

"I'm really okay Fitz, I bruise like a peach." I tried to lighten the mood; I hated the tortured look in his eyes.

"I could have killed Eli for putting his hands on you." He wrenched me close to his body and burrowed his face against my neck. I could feel his entire body quivering in my embrace. He was much larger than I was, but he was the one seeking comfort from me. "But I'm no better than he is, I hurt you. I was only concerned with me." I felt him take a ragged breath and his rough lips pressed against my shoulder. "Why Clare?" he pulled back to look at me straight in the eyes.

"Why what?" My voice was barely audible and I gasped as he leaned in and kissed my forehead, both of my cheeks and finally placed a chaste kiss against my lips.

"Why didn't you make me leave? Tell me to go to hell?" His hands slid down my back and gripped me closer to him, his breathing was irregular and his eyes were wide with sincerity. He seriously didn't know? "I don't treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I'm not good enough for you Clare."

"But you are!" my hands flew to my mouth when I realized how loud I'd answered him. If my parents walked in, we were both going to hell.

He let out a harsh breath and once my hands left my mouth, his lips crashed onto mine. It wasn't the normal rough kisses that showed how much he wanted me. Instead they were soul searing, mind numbing flicks of his lips sliding against mine that showed me how much he really needed me.

Before I knew it we were on my bed, I'd shrugged his clothes away from his muscled body and he got rid of my panties. I felt him sigh as he delved deep inside me, my hips rising to meet his purposeful thrusts. He kept his eyes locked on mine and his rhythm was slow, calculated, and uncharacteristically gentle.

He supported himself on his elbows and pulled his mouth from mine and lowered his head to my chest. His mouth was warm against my sensitive nipples. I stroked my hands down his back and urged him on. "Fitz, I'm almost there." I gasped and arched my body against him. He groaned and craned his neck to cover my mouth with his own. I felt my inner muscles contract around his hardness and he picked up his pace. The muscles in his back flexed under my fingertips and I moaned into his mouth with waves of pleasure coursing through my body.

He sucked on my earlobe and I felt his body jerk in a way that I'd come to recognize. His orgasm followed mine and his strong arms locked around me. I squeezed him to me one last time and then loosened my grip, knowing this was the part where he'd get up without a word and get dressed.

But it never came. He didn't move a muscle to roll off of me; instead he inhaled against my neck deeply and curled his arms tighter around me. When a minute turned into several and he'd still made no attempt to move I shifted beneath him in order to make sure he was okay. He propped himself up on his elbows and then rolled over on his side. I wasn't sure what was going on so I moved to sit up and he swiftly rolled me toward him.

"Please don't leave me the way I left you Clare." His voice was hoarse and he was exhausted. His hand found mine and he linked our fingers together. I should have pulled away, made him leave before I could get hurt. I shouldn't have allowed myself to feel anything for him

This was Mark Fitzgerald, the boy who made me want to do the opposite of what I should have done.