Chapter Ten: Visiting

I sat with my knees pulled up to my chest, rocking myself back and forth. It had been almost three hours since Adriel and Kieran had carried an unconscious and bleeding Tommy into the kitchen. They told me to stay where I was and wait. At first, I protested but one look from Kieran shut me up. He had a warning look in his eyes and I had a feeling if I pushed him just a little more, he’d toss the ice cream bowl at my head, knocking me out as well.

My eyes were darting between the uniquely designed clock hanging on the wall and the lattice partition. I kept waiting to hear voices or the door opening or a thud or something to indicate that things were fine but it was quieter than a grave save for the rhythmic breathing of Teddy and Snow, who were resting on either side of me. Bruce had disappeared along with his master.

These dogs had sensed that something was wrong the moment Tommy stepped in. We were the ignorant ones. I ran an affectionate hand down Teddy’s flank, leaning to bury my face in his silky fur to try and stem the river of concern that was flowing through me.

I was worried out of my skin for Tommy, despite my dislike for him. All my former grudges against him dissipated the moment he fell over, bleeding and unconscious. Suddenly, he wasn’t the guy who’d threatened to kill me in cold blood; he was a victim who needed help. It was weird, the way I cared for some people, especially those who had done absolutely nothing for me. That trait of mine had always given me more trouble than good.

I was drawn out of my thoughts when I heard a door opening in the kitchen. Snow perked up. Teddy’s tail thumped heavily on the floor boards. The dogs remained in their positions, eyes following their two owners.

“Guys?”

Adriel and Kieran walked out, holding a still unconscious Tommy between them with Bruce trotting beside them, head and tail held high in attention. Their hands and shirts were bloody and Tommy looked like a wannabe mummy what with all the bandages around his body. Adriel spared me a glance. He was too preoccupied with handling his friend to do much more than that. Slowly and wearily, they made their way upstairs.

“How’s he doing?” I asked when they came down again.

Adriel gave me a wan smile and two half-hearted thumbs up, which was not very assuring.

“We have to go and get some supplies,” Kieran said, stopping by me on his way to the kitchen. “We’ll leave the dogs. Will you be alright?”

A strange question to ask your hostage yet I nodded hesitantly. It didn’t feel safe all of a sudden despite having two furry bodyguards with me.

“I can handle myself.”

After they left, I went and stood by the foot of the stairs, one hand on the bannister, looking up. Tommy was up there somewhere. I didn’t dare explore the upper region when the guys were around, only going up there when one of them announced that I could go to bed. There wasn't wasn't fixed rule of where I could or could not go; it just didn't sit right with me, exploring a place that I wasn't even meant to be in. Besides, I'd never been alone, free to roam the house, before.

To go up or not to go up. That is the question. Snow was by my side, looking up at me inquisitively with his head tilted to the side. I reached down to stroke his ears as if to reassure myself.

“Stay, Snow.”

Ah, to hell with whatever secrets these guys have.

Holding my breath, I reached the top of the stairs quicker than expected. The only room I’d ever been in when I was up here was the bedroom I was assigned to and the bathroom that was opposite my room. The rest of the rooms were on the other side.

I shuffled to the baluster that overlooked part of the living room and leaned on it briefly before making my way across the landing space to the other side. There were four doors there. I perceived instantly that one of those doors opened up to another bathroom: the other three doors all had names on them.

The first door had ‘Kieran’ scrawled over the blue painted wood. The door opposite it had ‘Adriel’ scribbled on pale green along with several blink-182 and Green Day stickers. A smile made my lips twitch when I saw how Adriel’s room door represented that of a teenage boy’s.

The last door, adjacent to Kieran’s room, was a creamy brown – sort of like a latte colour. Printed on it in equally messy handwriting was the name ‘Tommy’.

“Bingo,” I whispered, stepping forward and placing my hand on the doorknob. Slowly, praying that the doorknob didn’t have any squeaky noises, I turned the round piece of metal and nudged the door open with my shoulder, deciding that it was far too late to pull back and pretend I was never here.

A low growl was the first thing I heard. Bruce laid by his master’s bed, head up, hackles raised. Upon recognizing my scent, he gave a loud snort, drooling over his paws. I stepped in carefully so as not to alarm the protective dog.

Tommy’s room was cold. The windows were wide open and the curtains were dancing wildly with wind. The man himself was on his bed with the sheets covering only his legs, body still as a corpse. I hurried over to him in alarm.

Was he dead?! Dear Neptune, what was I going to do with a corpse?

Apparently my panic was uncalled for because upon closer inspection, I could see Tommy’s chest moving up and down gently, as if every breath sapped his remaining energy. There was room on his Queen-sized bed so I gingerly perched myself on the edge to examine him more closely. A plum-coloured bruise the size of a ping pong ball was on his right cheek; his lower lip was torn and was still bleeding a little; scratches peppered his face and arms; his left shoulder and chest were adorned with bandages as was his right forearm. I couldn’t help but stare.

He was shirtless alright and his body was deliciously toned. I eyed the hard surface of his abdomen, eventually moving on to his strong-looking arms. Restraining myself from touching him required an incredible amount of willpower on my part. I was already itching to feel his skin under my fingers. Somehow, in my unreasonable female mind, those bandages did nothing for him except accentuate his masculinity.

Why are you thinking of him like that?

I shook my head then gave myself a slap. Glimpsing his body again, I realized that self-mutilation was not going to help my situation so I did the next best thing: I covered my eyes with my hands, using the slits between my fingers to see instead.

“I hate you,” I muttered, convincing myself it was not a cruel thing to say to an injured person.

And he stirred. My heart jumpstarted, beating at twice its normal speed. If he was stirring, it meant that he was alright, right?

His eyelids shot up, dark eyes momentarily unfocused, and he bolted upright. All thoughts of him being wounded left me when I felt his big hand around my neck, fingers pressing down on my carotid artery. I gripped his wrist with both hands immediately, trying and failing to get him to release me. Bruce sat up, watching us with a calm curiosity.

Once again, I would like to reiterate the fact that I am completely useless when it comes to combat or self-defense of any sort so feel free to think me useless in situations like this.

“Tommy, can’t breathe. It’s Deidre.”

That was what I meant to say.

“Tom . . . eee . . . Eethhe . . . Sss. . . Raaa . . .” was what I really said.

I pushed at his wrist desperately, starting to choke. It was getting hard to breathe here. I was starting to see spots of black in my vision. Recognition finally crept into Tommy’s eyes as I kept hitting at his arm. With a grunt, he released me and I collapsed on the bed, coughing.

“You,” he said with no attempt to hide the malice behind his voice.

“Yeah, hi,” I rasped, still struggling to draw in sweet, sweet oxygen.

His head fell back on the pillows, a groan pushing itself past his lips. “Where are the other two?”

“They went to get more supplies,” I responded, rubbing my neck.

A smile ghosted his lips. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not. Seeing a smile on Tommy’s face made me uncomfortable, probably worse than seeing him mad. It seemed to me that people like him only smiled when something bad was going to happen or if they were harbouring some secret that you knew was going to be bad for you if you found out.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, closing his eyes.

“I was checking on you.”

After I said that, there was an awkward silence. ‘Awkward’ as in I didn’t know what to say after just admitting that I was worried about him to him and ‘silence’ as in he kept his thoughts to himself. I wrung my hands together nervously, suddenly uneasy at being so close to him – on his bed, no less.

“Can I ask – “

“What happened,” he finished for me in a flat tone. I didn’t confirm his statement. Instead, I sat quietly by his side, waiting for him to tell his side of the story. That is, if he wanted to. After my few brief encounters with him, I had gathered enough to tell what kind of person Tommy was. In short, if he asked you to do something, you simply couldn’t refuse him. If he didn’t want to tell you something, you wouldn’t have the guts to pester him to. And if he made up his mind about something, there was nothing you could do to change it.

In common tongue, what he wanted, he got.

“I went looking for trouble,” he said. Surprised, I looked down at him to find him staring blankly up at the ceiling.

“Trouble?”

“I was tracking someone down but miscalculated my steps. They caught me.” He waved his right hand over his body, like his pitiful state was nothing but a trifle. I scanned his body again slowly, turning things over in my mind.

Shouldn’t I be glad that he got hurt? Shouldn’t I be whacking him over the head because of his vulnerability and make my great escape back to the life I had been kidnapped from?

I should.

But my gut was twisting. I didn’t want to leave, at least, not when he was like this. I couldn’t bear seeing people hurt or helpless, no matter how nefarious they were. It was one of my many, many weaknesses, a quality of mine that Danny never failed to point out when I came back with less cash than was acceptable from dealing.

“If you’re thinking about leaving,” he said, eyes still closed. “I’ll send the boys and the dogs after you and I’ll kill you myself.”

His threat didn’t feel real, despite his tone; more like a playful warning than anything. Maybe I refused to believe he was threatening me because of his state of dress. I mean his wounded state of dress.

His wounded state. Whatever.

“Don’t worry,” I assured him, cheeks flushing from my thoughts. “I’ll stay. It’s nice not playing the pathetic one for once.”

“Care to have my hands around your neck again?”

I stood up abruptly. “I’ll be watching a movie. Yell if you need me.” Conveniently forgetting that he was injured, I punched his bad arm. He yowled and I darted out and away from his room and his swears.