Safe and Sound(59)

Lola pressed a hand to her stomach, thinking she might vomit. His beautiful face. It was unrecognizable with cuts and blood. Lola wanted to touch him, but was scared she would hurt him even more.

“Jack?” she whispered, voice cracking.

His eyelids fluttered, but didn’t open. With a sinking sensation, Lola realized he couldn’t. Jack’s eyes were swollen shut.

“Shouldn’t…be…here,” he struggled to get out.

Lola broke down and cried, instantly and hysterically. Again and again her hand went to touch him and she pulled it back. She sank onto her knees beside the bed. Even his hands were cut and bleeding, but she didn’t know how much of that blood was from other wounds.

A noise alerted her they weren’t alone and she jerked her head to the side, posed protectively over Jack.

Isabelle hovered near the door, shaking and pale. She tried to speak and finally choked out, “He’s never been this hard on him before.”

“What happened?” Lola demanded, unable to take her eyes from Jack’s wrecked face. He wore a shirt and shorts; his legs were unaffected, but she didn’t know about his upper body. He needed a doctor.

“Jack told him about moving out. I thought…I thought he was going to kill him,” Isabelle said, breaking down. She sank to the floor and covered her face with her hands, weeping.

Determination overtook Lola and she got to her feet. She allowed it to wipe out the pain and fear, needing to be strong and focused. “Where’s a phone?”

Isabelle didn’t answer, too lost in her own pain to hear Lola.

Lola knelt beside her and pushed her hands away from her face. “Look at me, Isabelle.” She shook her head, trying to get away. Lola grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Look at me.” Isabelle did then and something in Lola’s expression quieted her.

“I need a phone. Jack needs a doctor.”

“No!” Isabelle shook her head. “He doesn’t want a doctor.”

Lola set her jaw and spoke slowly, “Your brother could have internal bleeding, wounds we don’t even know about, broken bones. He. Needs. A. Doctor.”

“Jar…ed,” was whispered raggedly from across the room.

Lola looked at Isabelle. “You know where Jared is?” She nodded. “Go get him. Now. Now.”

Isabelle shot to her feet and ran, her feet thundering against the floor in her haste.

Lola went to Jack, carefully brushing his hair back. Emotions welled up inside her, threatening to burst. She couldn’t stop crying; they silently trailed down her cheeks, dampening the bed.

A sob left her and Lola placed her hands over her face. She couldn’t lose him, she didn’t want to think about it, but the dread was there, trying to take over Lola. What if she lost him?

The barest of touches against her hand had her lowering them. She stared down at Jack, loving him and hurting for him. She gently took his outstretched hand into hers and kissed the broken skin.

She hoped his father rotted in hell.

“Love…you.”

Lola went still, shivers starting at her scalp and ending at her toes. She closed her eyes. “I love you,” she whispered back.

***

“How is he doing?”

Lola started, sloshing hot coffee on her hand. She ran to the sink and turned on the cold water, holding her pink flesh under it.

“Sorry,” Blair said, making a face.

She rubbed her face and leaned her hips against the counter, staring out the kitchen window at the gray cast sky. Lola was so tired.

“Okay, considering. He looks worse now than he did four days ago. Nothing broken, as far as we know.” Lola set her coffee mug down and looked at her aunt, her self-control on the verge of shattering.

Blair pressed her lips together and reached for Lola. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

There it went.

Lola sobbed, hanging onto her aunt just to stay upright. Blair hugged her tight, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She moved away from her aunt’s comforting arms, wiping her eyes. “This is so messed up. Really.”

“He needs to press charges. And he should have gone to the doctor,” Blair said for about the fiftieth time.

“He refuses to press charges. He’s scared if he does anything more to anger his dad he’ll lose his sister. And Dr. Jones looked him over at the apartment. It was the most Jack would agree to.”

“Sebastian’s mom will report it. It’s her job to.”

“She would, if any of us had told her the truth. He’s eighteen, an adult. Jack said he fell and hit his face against a door. She didn’t believe it, of course, but no matter how times she tried to get him to tell her what really happened, that’s all he would say. He’s stubborn like that.”