Blame It on Me

"Fine!" George Ragan yelled at the top of his lungs as he slammed his fist into the cheap drywall of the apartment he and his girlfriend, Alicia, had been living in for the past two years of their lives. His blue eyes were darkened to a cool cobalt, nearly unrecognizable to the slight blonde as she glared right back up at him, returning his anger tenfold. "If you have such a goddamn problem with it, get out!"

"I'm not leaving," she hissed at him in vehemence as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. Unlike her larger counterpart, she wouldn't take her anger out on the walls of the apartment. She was so tempted to say "You leave," to him, but she knew that saying that would only egg him on further. And seeing George even more pissed off than he was right now wasn't something that she cared to see.

"Fucking bitch," he growled at her before he pulled his fist out of the drywall, not paying attention to the way the plaster stuck to the cuts that had formed in his knuckles, causing the blood to congeal and make the injury look worse than it probably was. "You don't want to fucking be here anymore. I don't fucking want you here anymore. Just go!"

"No," she stood her ground, planting her feet even more firmly against the wood floor as if to prove her stubbornness. "I'm not fucking leaving, George."

His nostrils flared in anger as he looked down at her, eyes narrowing even further until they looked almost snakelike. She didn't understand why he had become so violently angry; why he was treating her so badly. She didn't understand how a simple argument over his spending yet another night at the bar with his friends had turned into this.

But she wasn't entirely surprised by it. After all, she and George had always had a violently passionate relationship. Their highs were amazing, while their lows made those catfights on reality TV shows look like a walk in the park.

"Fine," he narrowed his eyes at her as he approached her, his frame much larger than her own as he finally came to a stop in front of her. "I'll make you."

In an instant, her blood ran cold and Alicia's face drained of color. George had never hit her; not once in their three year relationship, and she hadn't expected his anger tonight to escalate to this. She opened her mouth to say something, not flinching as he lifted his arms before he grabbed her by her shoulders, squeezing hard enough to lift her but not nearly as painfully as she knew he could.

"What the fuck are you doing?" She growled at him as she felt him pushing her towards the door of their apartment. "Stop, George. You're hurting me," she tried when he gripped onto her shoulders tighter when she started fighting him.

"I'm making you leave, Alicia. I've fucking had it with your bitching and your nagging and your goddamn fighting with me! I'm done! Fucking go!"

He stopped just in front of the front door before he twisted the doorknob, yanking the door open so hard she was afraid he'd pull it off its hinges before he shoved her outside into the hallway. He was about to slam the door shut on her before she stuck her foot in between the doorframe and the door.

"You're not kicking me out without letting me get my fucking coat and my wallet so I can at least get a goddamn hotel, asshole," she hissed at him, her jaw clenching tightly as she stood her ground.

George didn't move, and for several seconds, there was no sound between them. His breathing was ragged and she could almost hear his heart thumping in his chest, it was pounding so hard. He was definitely angrier than she had ever seen him in their relationship and for a moment, that scared her.

"Fucking bitch," he repeated his former words, as though he couldn't think of anything else to call her. He pushed her foot out of the doorframe and slammed the door shut before the sound of a lock came through. Alicia stood there, completely shocked.

He had not just thrown her out without anything to keep her warm or get her off the street. That wasn't the George Ragan she had fallen in love with.

"George!" She screamed, not caring if she alerted their neighbors to the fact that they were having yet another fight. "George, open the goddamn door or so help me God, I'll break it down!"

He either didn't hear her or didn't care to acknowledge her, Alicia thought to herself, when she had been standing outside the apartment door for ten, fifteen, and then finally thirty minutes. She was tempted to walk away from the apartment and find one of their friends to stay with, though when she finally did turn to walk away, the door to the apartment creaked open just enough for George to toss out a duffel bag, her purse, and a jacket.

He didn't say a word as he slammed the door shut again, the locks once again sounding in the hallway, leaving her standing there alone.

Alicia was completely shocked. The two of them had fought before, but he'd never kicked her out and likewise, she had never kicked him out. After all, it was their apartment together and she knew damn well that he didn't keep good enough track of his money to be able to afford it on his own, even though the band he was in had been signed quite some time ago.

She kicked the door out of frustration as she leaned over to grab her jacket, pulling it on around her thin shoulders before she grabbed her purse and her duffel bag. She glared at the apartment, 46C, before she stormed down the hallway towards the staircase. She would have taken the elevator to get out of there faster, but since it was broken and the landlord hadn't ever bothered to fix it, the stairs would have to do.

When she got to the lobby of the apartment complex, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and checked it to make sure that George hadn't tried to call her; maybe tell her to come back up to the apartment and that things would be fine.

He hadn't.

She frowned at the piece of technology before she shoved it back into her pocket, knowing exactly where she was going to go. She didn't have enough money in her wallet nor her bank account to be able to afford a hotel for the night, and she didn't feel like inconveniencing their friends for a place to crash--ultimately, that would end with them having to choose sides again and quite frankly, Alicia didn't feel like putting them in that situation.

No, she thought to herself. This time, the two of them were really done. She didn't know why or how or what could be done to fix it. But she knew that they were done. He'd ended the relationship when he'd thrown her out and there was only one place you could go when you were left cold and alone like that.

Home. And for her, that was in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains in a small town called Lost Hills, Colorado.