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“Lori, the friend.”
“Who’s that?” Raph asks, pointing at the mutilated corpse on the floor.
“Micro Dick,” Lori replies. “Their sperm donor. The other two were his friends.”
Raph and Michel don’t seem disturbed by the gruesome scene surrounding us. In fact, Raph is slowly studying the room and taking pictures.
Sully clears his throat, and I notice how hard he is trying not to look at the bed and the corpses. Now that Rague is fine, he’s taking notice of the horror again.
“Sully, go get all of your stuff and mine.” I give him an excuse to get out of here. “Lori, can you help him?” I exchange a look with my friend that says, “Check on him.” He nods and guides my brother out.
“As soon as Rami and Gabe are here, we’ll carry Rague to his Jeep,” Michael tells me.
I run my hand into Rague’s hair, not caring about the blood among the strands—and maybe something else. Not thinking about that.
“What was…this?” I wave my arm at the room. “What happened to him?”
“Let’s take Rague home, and we’ll talk.” Raph gives me a quick glance before he puts his phone close to his ear and starts talking, “No risk of someone seeing, the windows are all closed and dirty as fuck. I’ll check the neighbors now, but I don’t think we’re gonna have any problem in this area.”
“He’s going to be fine,” Michael softly tells me, getting my attention.
I nod, feeling another tear hitting my cheek. I look down at Rague and focus on his breaths as I start humming again.
Rague is sleeping tranquilly in his bed. The dim light coming from his nightstand illuminates his red cheeks and the cut on his forehead. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his bandaged hand, but my back hurts, so it has to have been a few hours.
Giving him a shower before laying him on the sheets had been a real challenge. Rami and Raph helped, but I got completely soaked. The bruises, cuts, and wounds covering his body made me almost cry again—this whole incident has turned me into a weeping mess. Michael took care of them, and I helped, but there were so many.
He’s still unconscious. One of his mothers, Meg, said Rague would sleep for a while. The sedative is helping with that; his body needs to rest after thered haze attack—that’s what she called theHulk out.
His brothers went back to Dick’s house to…cleanit. They told me not to worry about it—whatever that means. I just felt something akin to gratitude overwhelming me since that meant I could stay with Rague. Lori and Sully have come to check on me from time to time. My best friend stayed to keep an eye on my brother—he would also never pass up the opportunity to ogle a group of fine men like Rague’s brothers. A small smile tries to tilt my lips, but then the tears pool in my eyes once again.
What the fuck is happening to me? I feel like a cauldron bubbling with emotions.
I sigh.He is fine. I keep repeating those three words inside my head. It’s so strange to see him this vulnerable, but even when comatose, I can feel his large commanding presence.
I look over at Pink. Sully found her in the abandoned house three doors down Dick’s place—she goes there when we aren’t around—and brought her here. She’s lying at the foot of the bed, sleeping happily. I really hope Rague will be fine with her here. And Sully. I can’t ask Rague to give him a roof too, can I?I shove aside the questions for now. There’s no reason to stir up more trouble. I’ll find a solution.
Rague lets out a soft moan, and my fingers push his curls away from his forehead. “Shhhh. Rest,” I softly murmur. “Everything is fine. You can rest.”
But is it true? What happens now?
My fingers move to his temple and further down where those hidden scars are. When I was washing away the blood in his hair I noticed them, needle-thin and small, peppering the whole area behind his ear. They looked old, and in some areas, thick, like the wound hadn’t had time to heal before the skin was sliced open again. What could have caused them? More importantly why?
I continue watching him for a few more minutes, until Michael’s head peeks from behind the door.
“They are back. Is he okay?”
I nod. I kiss Rague’s knuckles before gently placing his swollen hand under the duvet again and move toward the door. One last look at his peaceful figure, and then I drag myself out and leave the door ajar—just in case he calls. I turn toward the voices and head to the kitchen.
Someone started a fire in the living room fireplace. The smell of burning wood and the warmth filling the room is nice.
Michael is standing between Raph’s legs near the kitchen island where Rami, in tight jeans and a tighter shirt, is drinking a soda. He’s almost as brawny as Rague. Meg and Linda are sitting on one side of the dining table—two large empty plates with chocolate crumbs and melted ice cream left over are laying on the wooden surface. On the other side are Sully and Lori, who’s glaring at Gabe for some reason. He’s leaning against the fridge, reading something on his phone. His blue tailored suits and cold grey eyes tell a tale of broken hearts and lack of fucking remorse.
Rami said that Uri and Sari are not coming, I don’t remember the reason why. Fuck, there are so many of them. Lori will never remember their names.
All the chitchat stops when they see me.
Meg is the one who walks to me and takes my hand. “Here you are. How are you, kiddo?” She’s been very sweet and motherly from the moment I met her—around six hours ago.
