Page 36 of Bells

We crashed against my bedside table and the lamp fell to the floor, breaking on impact.

I overpowered her and the knife fell from her hand and clattered to the floor.

My bedroom door swung open and Ashes stood in the doorway, his hair a mess from sleep.

“What the fuck is going on—”

“Help me,” I shouted. “Call the fucking wards. She needs help.”

Ashes sprung into action and rushed from the room. A moment later, Church was at my side with Stitches as we tried to subdue Bells.

“Fucking damnit!” Stitches howled when she bit his hand. I knew it was taking all his willpower to not hit her for the action. Stitches’s go-to was always violence.

It was Church who grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard. She stared up at him, her body immediately relaxing and the fight leaving.

She collapsed against his chest as Ashes came back into the room, three wards with him. The wards were basically orderlies the medical facility sent out for troubled students.

“I don’t want to go,” Bells mumbled as they reached down to take her from Church. She clung to him.

“You need help. You’re in my fucking house, attacking people,” Church hissed at her. “Go. Get some fucking help, OK?”

His words seemed to get through to her, because she let him go, allowing the wards to lift her to the gurney and strap her down.

“She’ll be in holding,” one of the guys grunted. “Probably until morning.”

“She’s pregnant,” I whispered. “I-I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Docs will look into it. Call in the morning for a status.”

I nodded numbly as they took her away. I wanted to comfort her and tell her it would be OK, but she didn’t want me right then.

Maybe she didn’t want me at all.

She blamed me for all of this shit.

I’d had a few weeks of happiness all for it to crumble like this. And for what? I had no fucking idea what had happened. I could only assume it was stress and her mental health needed looking after.

Ashes clapped me on the back.

“It’ll be OK. She needs some help,” he said softly.

“Are you OK?” Church turned to me as the wards left. “You’re bleeding.”

I shook my head to clear it, my guts churning. “I’m fine.”

“What happened?” Stitches asked as I went to my dresser and grabbed out an old t-shirt and wrapped it around the worst wound. It might need stitches, but I’d wait it out. I needed a moment to breathe and get my shit together.

I quickly told the tale of the evening, finishing with a sad sigh.

“It’s not your fault. Don’t think it is,” Ashes assured me as I sat on my bed, the guys perched on various furniture in my room. “She had a mental break. She needs to get better.”

“She won’t get better here,” I mumbled. “Sully is a fucking creep.”

“Yeah, but she’ll be medicated. Maybe she can turn her shit around on her own once she’s cooled off,” Stitches said. “It’s happened to me a time or two.”

I nodded and rubbed my eyes. “I’m sorry this shit got you guys up.”

“You need to leave her,” Church said, ignoring my apology. “She’s turning you into something you’re not. We all see it.”

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