Page 20 of Desire

Chapter 16

It was early Sunday afternoon,and I had been lounging around the house with thoughts of Bridget running through my head. I wanted to explore whatever we might have, but damned if I didn’t break out in a cold sweat thinking about it. I knew she wanted me as much as I wanted her, but every time I thought about her seeing my scars, I cringed. God, I was such an emotional fucking pussy.

Not wanting to think about my scars and her potential rejection, I switched my train of thought back to Alex. I made the occasional drive-by over the last couple of days to check on him, including the one yesterday, but I was beginning to believe that there was some truth to his story about the bruises. I knew his routine by heart, and nothing had changed. I was pulled from my musings by the ringing of my personal cell phone.

“Connor Black.”

A soft groan sounded on the other end. “Hello,” I answered again.

“Mr. — Mr. Black,” the young voice responded.

I bolted upright and swung my legs over the side of the couch. “Alex? What’s wrong?”

I heard another pained moan. “Sir, I need your help. Can you come get me?”

Jumping up, I quickly began gathering my wallet, gun, and car keys. “Where are you, son?”

I could hear his heavy breathing. “I’m down the street from home at the library. They let me use their phone. Please, hurry.”

I raced out of the house and into my car, breaking every speed limit rushing to get to Alex. Tires squealed as I pulled into the parking lot and found the closest open spot. I rushed inside, searching for him, hurrying down each aisle until I spotted him against the back wall, looking uncomfortable sitting on a cushioned chair. There were tear tracks on his face.

“Alex,” I said softly, trying not to startle him. He jerked at the sound of my voice. He turned his head toward me and, as soon as he made eye contact, tears began flowing down his cheeks. I quickly scanned him from head to toe, but other than the tears and a wince when he shifted positions, nothing was different about his appearance. I moved over to where he sat and dropped into the chair next to him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, gently.

He sniffed and wiped his runny nose against the back of his hand, which he then rubbed across his pant leg. He took his time answering.

“I think my ribs are cracked. It hurts to breathe.” He shifted again, wincing in the process. The tears came faster.

I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like what he had to tell me. I opened and closed my hands to ease the ache that had settled in while I clenched my fists through his telling. My jaw ached from being clenched as well, so I wiggled it back and forth to ease the tension. “I need to take you to the hospital. On the way there, you can tell me what happened.”

“No,” he yelled, then lowered his voice. “I can’t go to the hospital. Can’t you just wrap them or something? It’s not like there is anything the hospital can do that you can’t.”

I didn’t want to know how he knew that. “Alex, you might have some internal bleeding. Your rib could puncture your lung. You need to see a doctor.”

He vehemently shook his head. “I told you, I can’t go to the hospital. If I was bleeding, I’d know. You said I could trust you. That you would help me.” He stared at me, waiting. He was right. I did say I would help him, but I struggled with making the right decision. He got tired of waiting and shook his head in disgust. “Never mind, I knew I shouldn’t have called you.”

He moved to stand up and gasped at the pain. He stood there for a second as he breathed through it. It was then that I made my choice.

“C’mon.” I stood from my perch and put my hand on his shoulder.

He shrugged it off and grunted. “I told you, I’m not going to the hospital.”

“I’m not taking you to the hospital. We’re going to my house. Let’s go.”

He stared, hesitant in believing my words. When I sensed his indecision, I tried again to put my hand on his shoulder. This time, he remained still.

“I said I would help you, and I will. But we can’t do it here. Now, are you coming or not?” I left it up to him. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he weighed his decision. With a short nod of acquiescence, he walked toward the front of the library and the exit.

Once outside, I pointed toward my car. Alex slowly lowered himself into the passenger seat and buckled his seat belt. I got behind the wheel and began the trek to my house. I didn’t push him to explain what happened. At least not until we got home. Once we arrived, I ushered him inside and directed him to the living room. I left him there as I went to the medicine cabinet to get the Ace bandages. Five minutes later, he still stood in the middle of the room.

“Take off your shirt so I can get you wrapped.” I instructed him.

Gingerly, he removed his shirt and tossed it on the love seat in front of the fireplace. I studied the mottled bruising along his left side that wrapped around toward the front and back of his torso. I gritted my teeth in fury. I knelt next to him and began the arduous process of binding his ribs. He hissed in pain I could relate to. I’d had many broken ribs in my childhood. A memory threatened, but I pushed it away.

I painstakingly completed the task, trying to cause the least amount of pain as possible. Once done, he painstakingly sat on the couch while I went to the kitchen to get him something to drink and some ibuprofen. Once he’d emptied the glass I set it on the coffee table. I sat on the edge of the recliner next to him, leaning forward with my elbows resting on my thighs and my chin resting on steepled fingers. Then I stared at him until he grew uncomfortable by my scrutiny.

“Now, tell me what happened.”

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