Under the Texas Sky

CHAPTER 59

TRENT

16 years old

“Safe,” is the last thing he says, then I watch helplessly as his eyes roll into the back of his head.

“No. Nonono. Fuck! What do I do?” I quickly look around, making sure his dad isn’t on his way to finish what he started. The darkness of the night is creeping in, and my panicked pulse is thundering in my neck, the blood rushing in my ears making it hard to think.

I was on my way over to his house because Don caught wind that we were together, and said if I wasn’t out by the time the sun set I wouldn’t have to worry about seeing the daylight ever again. I rushed through the house, picking up my measly belongings. I stared at my mom on the couch, and her eyes held so much hatred for me, I couldn’t say anything to her. There was nothing left to say, she had made her choice. And I had made mine.

But when I parked down the road to wait for Kian to text me back, I wasn’t expecting him to come flying down the sidewalk like a bat out of hell. His face is bloody, and there’s a bump forming on the side of his face, the contusion starting to swell and bruise.

Fuck, what am I supposed to do? I don’t have enough money to take him to the hospital, and even if I did, I can’t take him there because they would call his parents. His parents who did this, the vicious man who only knows how to take his aggression out on people smaller than him. I wish he had someone his own size to pick on, someone who would kick his ass and walk away laughing.

Kian doesn’t weigh much more than me, and it’s a pain trying to get a dude’s full body weight secured in my grip so I can help him up. If I could get him to my car, I could think better. I could figure out a way to help him.

I can’t go get the car though, because I’m not leaving him here. I refuse to leave him.

We make our way down the sidewalk, me keeping a tight grip around his body and unceremoniously dragging him across the pavement. He might have a few scrapes from the concrete, but it's the best I can do under these circumstances.

I finally get him to my car, laying down the seat to rest his body on. He’s breathing, and his pulse is strong under my fingertips. The thud thud thud matching my own struggling heart from the physical exertion. I wipe away a bead of sweat from my forehead, and make sure he’s safely inside before I shut the door.

I tilt my head back, feeling the rush of cool air while I refuse to scream out my frustration. Frustration for him, for me, for us. We’ve been dealt one shitty card after another, but I make a silent promise to him as I round the car that he’ll never have to struggle alone. His highs will be my highs, and his lows will be mine to help him through.

When I’m in my seat, I pull my phone out of the cup holder and do a quick Google search to figure out what I’m supposed to do. The top options say to take him to the hospital – duh. But finally, a helpful article pops up and I scan through it. I’ve read through it twice, when there’s a slight shuffle beside me. Then a groan.

“Trent?”

“Oh–” I have to choke back a sob as he turns his head towards me, his hair is wet with blood, but somehow he can still form a smile on his battered face. “Kian! I was so fucking worried.”

“Knew you’d come for me,” he says and his eyes start to slowly close again.

“No! Kian, you gotta stay awake for me. Can you do that? Please?” I’m begging him as tears trek down my face. His eyes open back up, just a pinch, so I can barely see his green irises. He reaches his hand up and I gently grasp it in mine, running my fingers across the bony ridges of his knuckles.

“You’re okay, we’re going to figure this out.” I don’t know if I’m trying to convince me or him more, but a sense of peace slips over his face as he stares at me.

“Together.”

“Together,” I reassure him, keeping my hand in his as I drive around. The grocery store is closed for the night, but there’s a small convenience store down the road that has a small selection of medical things. It should be enough to tide him over until maybe he can go see the school nurse. I don’t know if they are mandated to report things, but by then it’ll be too late. We’re in this, just the two of us. And if I have to put my foot down and argue with adults over it, I will. For him.

“My head hurts,” he whines, and a helpless feeling courses through me. I’m driving in circles around town trying to find somewhere to get something to help him.

I know there’s a first aid kit in the trailer, under the bathroom sink. Am I really going to risk going back there?

The obvious answer is yes, yes I’m willing to risk whatever Don is going to do to me. If it helps Kian, it’s a no brainer.

“Hang on, Freckles. We’ve gotta make a pit stop real quick.” While I make the short drive back to the trailer park, I make a mental list of everything we could need. We don’t have anywhere to live right now, but I can’t think about that right now. My main priority is making sure Kian is taken care of.

The lights aren’t on in the trailer, and I heave a deep sigh of relief. Kian is still awake beside me, but the glazed over look in his eyes says he’s not aware of what’s going on. That’s probably better.

“I’ll be right back, don’t get out of this car. Promise me, Ki,” I demand, making sure his eyes are on mine.

“Promise, can we get me some chocolates too? I really want some.” He loves the chocolates I get from the grocery store, and I want to get them for him, but it’ll have to wait until tomorrow.

“Yeah, we’ll get you some.”

“M’kay.”

I leave him in the car, quietly shutting the door in case my mom is home. I don’t want her to tell Don I’m back.

I push the door open, it’s still barely hanging on by its hinges from where Don threw it open earlier. He was on the warpath, and now that Kian’s parents also know it's no wonder why.

The cold breeze is overtaking the house, and I can see my breath with every exhale I take. It’ll be fine. I’ll grab all the blankets I can. My clothes still should be hanging up, unless Don already got rid of them. But when I get to my bedroom, everything is as I left it. Except for a few broken beer bottles that were shattered against the wall, the pieces of glass littering the floor.

I fill my hands with everything I can. I’ll make multiple trips if I have to. Blankets, clothes, bathroom items. We have everything we could need.

I’m stuffing an old duffle bag full of the few cans we had left in the pantry when I hear a car pulling down the road. I don’t know if it's my mom and Don, but I’m not willing to risk it.

It’s not them, the car I heard flies past the trailer house, leaving a small trail of dust that leads to the houses in the back.

I throw the last bag in the backseat, hearing the loud thunk of the cans hitting against each other. Kian is staring at me while I search through the things I grabbed to hand him a reusable water bottle I filled with water and a few advil. I’ll have to wait until we get to a safe space to sleep for the night before I can bandage up his gashes, but the pain medicine should hold him over.

“Thank you for saving me, Trent.” I extend my arm to him, letting him rest his head on it as I find a place to park the car for tonight.

Deciding the safest place will be the park, I park my car into a spot far enough away it won’t draw attention. Leaning over the console, I patch up Kian’s wounds to the best of my ability. The fog is starting to clear from his eyes, but when he flinches in pain I feel the pain resonating in myself.

“Almost done, and then we can sleep. We can share the backseat, and I grabbed lots of extra blankets so it’ll be warm.” And hopefully our body heat helps as well.

“As long as you hold me tight and don’t let me fall off the seat.”

“Never,” I vow to him. Vowing to hold him tight and never let him go, in all aspects. He’s mine, and I’m his. He’s the person I wished on shooting stars for, and here he is right in front of me, and I’m never letting him go.