Page 12 of Rushed: Christopher

Christopher didn’t respond at all other than to wipe his mouth with his still-gloved hand.

“Hey,” I repeated in the hopes of getting him to look at me, but instead, Christopher shrugged my hand off his shoulder.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmured. He stood shakily, but when I tried to stand to assist him, he shook his head. “No, please, can you just… can you wait here?”

There was no denying the need in his voice.

The need to escape.

Knowing he probably wanted to pull himself together both physically and mentally, I let him go. He promptly went to the kitchen and returned with a dish towel, which he handed me. As soon as I took it, he quietly went up the stairs and disappeared for several minutes. I used the time to clean off my boots and the surrounding floor, but since it was an area rug, it was easier said than done. I went to the kitchen to look for any kind of carpet cleaner beneath his sink but couldn’t find anything. Since I wasn’t about to snoop around his kitchen, I wetted down the towel with water and returned to the living room to clean the mess up as best I could. A quick return to the kitchen had me tossing the dish towel into the sink and then reaching underneath for the dustpan and broom I’d seen earlier.

I made quick work of cleaning up as much of the glass as I could but made a mental note to remind Christopher to vacuum the area just to be sure. I was in the process of dumping the contents of the dustpan into the garbage when I sensed I was no longer alone. Sure enough, Christopher was watching me.

“Hey, you okay?” I asked as I quickly put the dustpan and broom away.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Christopher murmured as he looked back at the spot where I’d taken out his side table. I’d tossed the broken pieces of wood along the wall as I’d been cleaning up the glass.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” I said as I motioned to the debris. “Maybe you can send me a link for the store where you got them?”

Christopher shook his head. “It’s fine. Can I… Can I finish…?” He motioned to my head.

“Yeah, sure,” I responded, though the last thing I was worried about was my head. I followed Christopher back to the living room. He made sure to steer clear of the soiled part of the carpet and motioned for me to sit. Pip had curled himself up into a tiny ball at the end of the couch, so I took the other end. This time, Christopher sat next to me on the couch, but he was all business. Within two minutes, my wound was cleaned and covered with butterfly bandages.

Christopher climbed to his feet and quickly grabbed all the debris from the supplies before hurrying to the kitchen. I followed but didn’t say anything. He was once again the Christopher he’d been when King and I had arrived, and I knew in my gut that nothing I said would get through to the old Christopher.

“I’ll pay to have your boots professionally cleaned, or if you prefer, I can buy you new ones,” the young man said as he began wiping down the already spotless countertop. It was likely just an excuse to keep his back to me.

“No worries, they’ve seen worse,” I said softly. “Christopher?”

“Make sure to put an ice pack on the back of your shoulder. And leave the butterflies on for a few days. Take some ibuprofen when you get home. That will help with your head and your shoulder. If you feel any kind of nausea or anything, go to the ER just to be on the safe side. There was no LOC, but cerebral edema is always possible with head injuries.”

“Christopher…”

Although Christopher hadn’t stopped moving throughout his speech, as soon as I said his name again, he did. But he wouldn’t look at me. It made me feel empty.

Lost.

“Thanks for patching me up. Next time, I’ll try not to do a half gainer on any of your furniture or your cat.”

I’d hoped the comment would make him turn around, but there was no change in his frame. His back was ramrod straight, and his shoulders were locked tight. He didn’t even look at me.

“You take care, Christopher,” I murmured before turning my back on him and heading to the front door. I heard the kitchen faucet turn on, so I knew there wasn’t a possibility that he was following me to see me out.

I made quick work of leaving the small house and then headed east. As I’d suspected, King was waiting for me at the end of the block. I’d been pretty sure my friend hadn’t completely ditched me like he’d pretended. As I took in the sight of King leaning with his back against the front of the vehicle, I couldn’t really be angry with him.

King barely reacted as I walked around the front of the truck and leaned against it. I almost smiled when I saw him toying with his handgun. He was ejecting the clip and reloading it over and over. It was a nervous habit he’d engaged in from the time I’d met him, but I hadn’t seen him doing it for a while now.

Not since he and Gio had gotten together.

“You need a new nervous habit, buddy. That one’s going to land you in jail,” I said.

King sighed and put the gun away. “Did he tell you anything?” the man asked as he glanced at me.

“Was he supposed to?”

King pushed away from the car and began pacing in front of it. “When I saw him jump into action after you fell… I don’t know, I just thought…” King fell silent and shook his head.

I straightened and then went to grab my friend’s arm to stop his forward movement. I opened my hand. “Keys,” I said. “You owe me a drink.”

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