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Bed of Lies

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Travis had seen her a couple more times, he had tried but she was spiraling out of control. He could see it from a mile away, she had never overcome her mom’s death and had filled her void with partying. Travis had gone out with her to a couple of parties, but he realized it wasn’t for him. She would drink anyone under the table, snort coke if it was available and take whatever else to avoid thinking. The last straw was when he drove her home one night, and she became abusive. He had never been abused by a girl before and it was surprising to him. She called him a cunt, told him he was a dirty old man and started throwing things at him. It started out small but progressed to bigger things the further in the house they got. Travis didn't want to leave her in that situation, he didn't want her to hurt herself, but he didn't know how much longer he could take it.

"You're a dirty old cunt that preys on young girls!" She shouted and chucked a vase at him, he shielded himself from it. "You fucking raped me!" She shouted.

"Cut that shit out, Evelyn. You know I didn't," he said.

"Maybe I do but no one else does," she said.

"Stop it, this isn't a joke," he said, and she laughed.

"I think it's pretty funny, tell everyone Travis Fimmel is a rapist, see what that does for your career," she said, and he reached out for her, she escaped his grasp.

"Evelyn," he said and reached out for her again, she evaded him.

"I know you slept with me because of who my dad is, Travis, I'm not some bimbo," she said, and Travis stopped, staring at her. Those words were the first ounce of truth she had spoken all night, but it stunned him that she would think that.

"Evie, I swear, that wasn't the case," he said, and she laughed.

"That's why everyone sleeps with me or is friends with me, why would you be different?" she asked, he saw her reaching for another object and he was quick reaching out, he grabbed hold of her. "Let go of me!" she shouted, struggling in his grip but he retained his hold.

"Evie, I didn't sleep with you because of who your dad is, I liked you!" he exclaimed, and she stopped struggling, looking into his eyes.

"Liked? You don't like me anymore?" she asked, and he sighed.

"I don't like who you are right now, no," he said, and she pulled herself out of his grip.

"Then you don't like me, you like the happy fake Evie, now it got too real for you," she said and shook her head. "Fuck off, Travis, just fuck off," she said and turned, walking further into the house. Travis stood in the hall, looking at the void where she had stood and sighed, scratching the back of his head. What the fuck was he supposed to do. He wasn't her boyfriend, he had no responsibility to her and it'd be best for him if he walked away from it. But if he left her and something happened to her, he'd never forgive himself. He sighed and trotted into the kitchen where he found Evie with an open bottle of wine.

"Evie," he said, and she looked up. He could see she was surprised he had followed her, but her expression quickly hardened.

"I thought I told you to fuck off," she said and poured herself a glass, she drank it then poured more.

"Stop," he said, pressing on the bottle and she pulled it from his reach, filling the glass. He grabbed the glass from her, the wine swished out of the cup onto the floor and she was quick to start chugging straight out of the bottle. He reached around her, struggling to get it out of her grasp but she pushed against him.

"Leave me alone, Travis!" she shouted, and he continued trying to retain his grip on the bottle. Suddenly his foot slid into the wine spill and he stumbled, pulling her with him to the ground. The bottle smashed on the floor, the wine spilling over the tile and Evie's blood mixed with it, she had got cut from the broken glass. Travis grabbed a towel from the stove, wrapping it around the cut but she used her feet to kick out at him, he stumbled backwards as she landed a solid kick to his stomach.

"I'm trying to fucking help you!" he shouted, and she glowered at him, pulling herself up slowly.

"I don't need your fucking help, I told you to fuck off," she said and left the kitchen, a trail of blood following her. Travis sighed, grabbing another towel and following her, there was no way he could leave her now. Not when she was bleeding. He entered the next room the trail of blood led to and found her draped over a couch, staring up at the ceiling. "Go the fuck away," she demanded, and Travis grabbed at her arm where she had cut herself, struggling to at least tie the towel around it.

"I'll leave you when you let me stop the bleeding," he said, and she ripped her arm from him, holding pressure on the wound.

"I'm doing it, alright?" she demanded, and Travis stepped back, studying her.

"Why are you such a cunt?" he asked, and she looked over her shoulder at him, staring at him.

"What," she said.

"Why are you such a fucking cunt? You weren't this person when I met you," he said, and she laughed coldly.

"No, I'm sure I wasn't," she said and stood. "I'm a lost cause, Travis, don't even waste your time on me, go back to your cushy Hollywood life and find some skank that will happily suck your dick without causing trouble," she said, and Travis watched as she walked across the room, sitting in another chair.

"You're being ridiculous, you need to see someone, Evie, you need help," he said, and she stared at him.

"See someone? Now I'm crazy?" she asked.

"No but you clearly haven't dealt with your mom's death," he said, and her eyes narrowed.

"Don't fucking tell me what I have or haven't done about my mom's death, you weren't in my life for that, you came in when things started getting good," she said, and he laughed.

"This is good? Fuck, I'd hate to see you when you're at your worst then," he said, and she was quick, chucking the remote across the room at him. It smacked him in the face and he winced at the sharp pain, touching the spot. "You're a fucking psycho, I tried, at least I know I tried, fuck you Evie, “he said, giving her the finger and leaving the house, ignoring her screams of obscenities behind him. He shut the door and shook his head, how had he missed the psycho in that one before he got involved.