Page 51 of Ward Willing
“Thanks,” I mutter, giving Bart a worried smile before I quickly walk away toward the dark end of the street.
When I get there, I look both ways before I turn left, where several small alleys break off the street. As I walk past each one, I keep an eye out for him, hoping he’s getting air somewhere. I don’t see him and it’s cold, so I decide to try the other way, but movement on the ground catches my eye.
A leg behind a dumpster.
Liam’s leg.
My blood cools as I quickly jog over to him, and my heart sinks when I see him slouched against a wall with blood coming out of his nose and a black eye forming.
“Hey,” he warbles.
Short-lived relief washes over me before I take in his injuries, which don’t look to be life-threatening.
He’s okay. He’s talking. He’s okay.
He’s okay.
He’s okay.
He’s okay.
I crouch down and run my hand over his face, brushing the hair off his forehead to assess the damage.
“What happened?” I ask, my voice shaking with adrenaline.
“Some guys mugged me. Stole my wallet. I told them to fuck off and one of them punched me. Twice.”
“What?” I screech, looking around. “Why were you out here alone?”
His eyes find mine. “I needed a minute to think.”
“You’re an idiot,” I grumble, reaching for his hand, which is cold. Pulling him a bit more upright, I’m able to get a better look at his face. “Should I call an ambulance? Should we go to the ER?”
He gives me a look that saysabsolutely not,but I grab his hand anyway and help him up.
“I’m fine. I’ve been punched before. Just needs ice and rest,” he grits out, spitting blood onto the ground.
“What? When have you been punched?”
He grimaces as he feels his face. “Like I said, I was an idiot when I was your age.”
I want to ask him about it. I want to know what he was like, and why he got punched. Something tells me there’s a lot I don’t know about Liam Ravage.
“I could call Orion?” I offer, wondering if that’s a better option than him driving us home.
“No,” he growls, helping me up and walking us out of the alley. “I don’t want to worry him.”
I grind my teeth together to keep myself from telling him that he doesn’t always have to feel like such a burden. That perhaps Orion would be happy to help.
But I don’t, because I know Liam well enough to know that he’ll refuse to bother his brothers until his dying breath.
“Let’s go home,” he tells me, wiping his bloody nose on his sleeve. I wince as blood tracks against his cheek.
“We should clean you up before I drive you home.”
He stops walking and glares at me with furrowed brows. “You don’t have a license.”
I shrug. “You’re bleeding. I knowhowto drive, Liam. I used to drive my friend’s cars all the time at Thatcher.”
