CHAPTER 18 #2

A shallow sigh left me as my head lolled to the side.

I must have drifted back off with the drugs rushing around my system.

My mind filled with flashing images of Misfit, her dark obsidian eyes glaring at me, standing over me like a shadow.

Then, to Danny, his hands wrapped around my neck, choking me.

Swirling around my mind’s eye like I was caught in a hell loop.

I took in a deep breath as I pulled myself from my dozed state.

Forcing my eyes open, feeling a heavy weight across my legs, I looked down to see Squeeks resting against the bed.

Her phone clutched in her hand, the screen lighting up, pulling her from her sleep.

She glanced at me as I offered her a small smile, “Hey.”

Her eyes widened as she moved further up the bed.

“Hey, you’re awake. How are you feeling? Should I get a doctor?”

I shook my head, “I’m fine. How long have I been out?”

Her eyes dropped from mine, “A few days. You really had me worried there for a minute, fucking asshole!” I pushed myself up on my elbows, ignoring the throb in my side, the raw heat under my skin where bruises hadn’t settled yet.

Squeeks sat up with me, brow furrowing in confusion.

Her hands twitching like she didn’t know whether to hug me or hold me down.

“I need to get out of here,” I groaned, shifting myself in the bed.

She stood herself up, lowering her tone to a whisper, “I don’t fucking think so! You nearly died. You ain’t going anywhere.” Faltering at being assertive.

I nodded as I gritted my teeth, pulling my legs from under the hospital sheets, the coldness of the floor shocking my skin.

“Ty, just stop! You’re not strong enough to be going anywhere!” I ripped the hospital gown from around my neck, revealing the extent of Danny’s handiwork. My skin, a concoction of dark purples and blues, the stark white bandage covering the wound from my untimely surgery.

“I can’t stay here Squeeks, the cops want to talk to me, and I don’t want to be around when they come sniffin',”

“I get it,” she said, voice trembling just enough to crack through the silence. “I get why you’re running. I do. But Ty—”

“No! I’m going,” I cut her off, grabbing my hoodie from the back of the chair, wincing as it pulled at the bruises across my ribs.

Her lips parted like she had more to say, maybe she did, but I wasn’t sticking around to hear it.

I pulled on my bloodied jeans, taking slow, sharp breaths.

Pain washed over me as I pulled against the stitches on my stomach.

I probably should have stuck around, even if it was to score some more pain meds, but I didn’t have the time for that.

Squeeks reluctantly helped me with my boots as I stumbled heading for the door.

“You're seriously fucked up!” Her tone lowered as she hooked herself under my arm to help me walk. I couldn’t help but chuckle, quickly cut short by pain radiating from my ribs.

“Just get me the fuck out of here.” I kept my head down beneath the hoodie, one hand gripping the railing along the hallway as we moved.

My body still felt like it had been wrung out and left to rot, but adrenaline does funny things.

Made the pain easier to ignore. Made the need to get the hell out stronger than the urge to buckle after each step.

Squeeks shuffled, pulling her hoodie tighter, her eyes darting to every nurse station. “This is a bad idea,” she hissed under her breath. “You’re not even healed,” my lips pressed together in pain as we turned the corner.

“I’m not staying in that bed just so they can walk in here and take me out in cuffs.

” We slipped past the glass exit doors of the ICU, then down another hallway.

I could feel the heartbeat in my throat, fast and uneven, matching the distant thud of footsteps somewhere behind us.

“This way,” I said, nodding to the stairwell.

The elevators were too exposed. Too many cameras.

Orderlies rushing around us. She didn’t move with me right away.

Just stood there, staring at the door like it led to somewhere worse than jail.

I turned, looking to her, confused, “What?”

She huffed, “I don’t even know what we’re doing, Ty. Where are we going? What’s the plan?”

My darkened eyes shifted up and down the corridor as I leaned my shoulder against the wall. “Well, I can’t go home unless I fancy Danny picking up where he left off. So, my only option is Chester’s old place.”

She paused, looking at the determination written across my face.

Letting out a sigh, she hooked herself under my arm once again, “For fuck sake, Ty.”

Every door we passed felt like it could burst open at any second.

My body was screaming at me to collapse, but we made it out into the night, the city’s breath hitting us hard.

Rain lashed down upon us as we slipped through the crowds of umbrellas, sticking close to each other.

The rain was relentless, soaking us through in minutes.

Each step down the winding back streets felt heavy, like the city itself was trying to drown us.

Squeeks had one arm around me, dragging me forward by the time we reached Chester’s place.

We made it up the steps, looking like something the gutter spat out.

I leaned against the doorframe as she fumbled with the key, her wet hoodie clinging to her arms, her hair stuck to her pale face.

She finally got the door open, and we spilled inside, dripping on the floorboards.

Squeeks wasted no time, guiding me towards the bedroom. All this time, I had refrained from using it out of some reluctant chance Chester might return.

But she didn’t give me a choice, “Sit. I’ll sort it,” she muttered, brushing past me.

The bed was messy, forgotten under a layer of dust and old magazines.

She ripped the sheets off with a grunt, coughing as the cloud of dust rose.

“God, Chester, you could’ve at least changed your sheets once before dying. ”

I smirked, lowering myself carefully onto the edge of the bed frame. My legs felt like bricks. Trying desperately not to shiver as it only intensified the pain.

I watched as she bustled around, soaked to the skin, teeth chattering. She opened the small wardrobe and pulled out a half-decent blanket. “This’ll have to do,” she said, turning toward me. Her eyes scanned my face, narrowing at the paleness she didn’t like. “You need to rest.”

I huffed, “I’ve rested enough.”

She stood in front of me, placing her cold hands on either side of my face, “You passed out for days. That’s not rest. That’s your body giving up, dick head.

” Her hands shifted to my hoodie, trying to peel it off.

I let her, only wincing when she hit a bruised rib.

She paused, then stood, pulling her own hoodie off and tossing it over a chair, her shirt clinging to her skin.

“I’ll find you something dry,” she said, already rifling through Chester’s dresser. She pulled out a black, faded band t-shirt, something that might’ve fit Chester a decade ago.

“Here,” she held it out to me, and I took it with a grunt of thanks, beginning to change.

“You don’t have to fuss,” I said quietly, struggling to pull the shirt over my head.

She scoffed, reaching forward to help me, “Because you seem to be managing real well right now,” her tone dripping with sarcasm. She looked exhausted and angry, “You didn’t deserve any of what they did to you,” she said quietly.

I nodded once, jaw tightening. “Still happened though, didn’t it?” She helped me lie down, tucking the blanket over me. “How did you find out?”

She paused, sitting herself down on the bed beside me, “He wasn’t exactly quiet about it.

He was bragging about it as soon as I got in the house.

Mum tried to start shit, but we both know that wouldn’t last,” her eyes fell to her hands as guilt rushed over her face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls. I thought you’d be disappointed in me.

” Her eyes started to well up with tears.

“Why would I be disappointed? He’s a cunt, simple as that. He uses and abuses. Well, not for much fucking longer,” the obvious threat laced in my words.

Her eyes widened as she looked to me, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

She subtly shifted herself, laying her head down beside mine, “What would Chester say?”

I rolled my eyes, “You can’t keep using that forever, Squeeks.” She smiled, nestling closer into my shoulder; I felt her shiver beside me. I moved the blanket the best I could, sharing it with her as we watched the rain snake down the window in grey rivers.

“Try and get some sleep. You can continue your murderous thoughts tomorrow,” her voice softening as she closed her eyes.

Every part of me throbbed with a dull, familiar hum.

The hospital meds had worn off, and now it was just me and pain, reacquainted.

I groaned and rolled onto my side, half-regretting the movement as something sharp twisted deep in my back.

The blanket slid off, and the cold air licked at my skin.

The smell of food filled the flat, and then I heard Squeeks.

She was in the kitchen, singing something painfully off-key.

I couldn’t make out the song, but she was giving it her all like she was on stage in front of thousands instead of cooking breakfast in a dead man’s flat.

Pots clanged, and a cupboard slammed. The smell of burnt toast mingled with what might’ve been eggs.

I pushed myself upright slowly, every joint creaking like I was double my age.

I sat on the edge of the bed, breathing through the hurt, letting the rhythm of her clumsy kitchen concert distract me from the sharp edges of it.

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