RED NOTES AND KISSES-Chapter 77: FRIDA -

"You cheater!!!!" Lexi’s voice thundered through the entire male dormitory, shaking the walls in the early hours of the morning.

The deafening sound of glass shattering and furniture clashing echoed. Doors slammed violently.

"I’ve given you everything, you motherfucker!"

Crash!

"And you’re cheating on me with that bitch!"

Crash!

"Why?!" she screamed, her voice cracking with raw emotion.

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"Shut up, Lexi!" his voice bellowed, reverberating down the hallways like a beast’s roar.

"Why?!" she screamed again, louder this time. Her cries were unhinged, primal. "You motherfucking bastard, I gave you everything!"

"And you have the audacity to cheat on me? Not once!"

Slam!

"Not twice!"

Slam!

"Not three times!" she bawled, the sound inhuman, like a wounded animal.

"I said, fucking shut up, you bitch!"

Crash!

"Hit me! Goddammit, keep hitting me, you bastard!"

Crash!

"Is it a crime to love you?!" Her voice cracked as tears streamed down her face.

Frida suddenly yanked open the door. The scene inside was horrifying and surreal.

The brute stood in the center of the room, a massive, hulking figure whose shadow seemed to consume the space. He held a broken wooden chair leg in one hand, his body heaving with rage.

Lexi was curled into a tight ball by the wall, screaming in agony.

"I fucking cook for you! I fucking clean for you! I do your laundry, you ungrateful son of a bitch!"

"Did I ask you to?!" he snarled, his voice dripping with venom.

With a casual swing of his massive arm, he grabbed a sofa and flung it across the room. It smashed into the wall with a deafening crash.

Frida’s heart slammed against her ribs as she froze in place. The scene paralyzed her, each moment burning into her memory like a nightmare she couldn’t wake from.

It was too familiar. Too real. Her mind transported her back to a trashed house, where two children huddled in a corner, holding each other, crying silently in the darkness.

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think.

The brute turned back to Lexi, raising the broken chair leg high.

"No, you didn’t ask me to love you," Lexi sobbed, her voice breaking. "I’m just stupid! Yes, I know I’m stupid—that’s why you’re hitting me! But I’m still here, waiting for you to realize I love you and you have to stop!"

The chair leg swung down.

"I said shut up!"

"Noooo!" Frida screamed, but before she could move, Reg burst into the room like a force of nature.

Reg’s fist connected with his jaw in a brutal, precise hit. The brute crumpled to the ground in one smooth motion.

Lexi screamed in shock as the beast of a man lay sprawled on the floor, blood streaming from his nose.

"Well, this is better than the workout I was planning this morning," Reg muttered, mounting him like a trained fighter. Her fists rained down with unrelenting fury, each punch delivering raw, unfiltered rage.

"Reg, stop!" Lexi cried, her voice trembling.

But Reg was deaf to her pleas, her muscles taut as she pummeled his face until it was slick with blood.

"Reg, stop, please!" Lexi begged, running to her side.

Lexi threw her arms around Reg, clinging to her desperately. "Please stop, Reg. I’m begging you. Please..."

Reg paused mid-swing, her breathing ragged, her fists still clenched. She turned, and for a fleeting moment, Lexi flinched, as though expecting a blow.

But Reg’s expression softened. She wrapped her arms around Lexi, lifting her effortlessly until she was straddling Reg’s waist, her tear-streaked face buried in Reg’s shoulder.

"You always gotta save his fucking ass," Reg muttered, her tone low and soothing, as though trying not to startle the crying girl.

The brute groaned, pulling himself up with a sneer. His face was a grotesque mask of blood and bruises.

"She deserved it," he spat, his voice thick with malice. "I’ll fucking hit her again. She deserves it, over and over."

Before anyone could react, he lunged at Reg with the broken chair leg.

Frida barely had time to think. She threw herself in the way, taking the blow directly to her head. She crashed into the center table, pain radiating through her skull.

"Fucking bitch got in the way," he growled, wiping blood from his mouth.

Frida’s ears rang, her vision blurred as the memories clawed at her mind.

"Frida!" Reg’s panicked scream reached her through the haze.

The flashbacks were relentless.

"Please don’t hurt him! Please hurt me instead!"

"I can’t! If you don’t let him go, I’ll kill myself!"

"Stop! Stop! Stop!"

Frida staggered to her feet, clutching her ribs. She stumbled into the kitchen, her trembling hands grabbing a knife from the block.

"What are you gonna do with that?" he taunted, laughing cruelly.

His massive frame loomed closer, his bloody face twisted into a mocking grin.

"Lexi, are all your friends this dumb?"

Frida’s body shook with rage as she tightened her grip on the knife. He raised the chair leg again, stepping toward her.

But before he could strike, a deafening gunshot rang out, silencing the chaos.

Frida crouched down, covering her ears, as the memories crashed into her mind with relentless force. She saw two frightened, faceless children running through a trashed house, holding each other tightly.

When she looked up, Laz stood over the brute, a gun pressed firmly to his temple.

"I won’t mind a few years in jail," Laz said coldly, his voice like ice, "since you dared to hit my woman."

Frida scrambled toward him, grabbing his wrist. "No," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Laz’s jaw clenched, his muscles taut with restrained fury. Without a word, he scooped her up over his shoulder.

"That’s enough excitement for the morning. We’re going home," he muttered, his tone final.

Even in her awkward position, dangling over his shoulder, Frida felt an overwhelming sense of safety.

As he carried her out, Reg and Lexi followed closely behind.

"What’s going to happen to him?" Frida croaked, her voice barely audible.

"The cops are here," Laz said simply, the sound of sirens wailing in the distance.

"You were going to kill him," Frida whispered.

Laz’s dark voice met hers. "Frida..."

Her lips trembled, her thoughts swirling in chaos.

But one thing was painfully clear:

LAZ HAD A GUN.