Page 132 of When We Fall: Part Two
“Don’t touch?—”
“You’re bleeding,” I said thickly. “Let me help you.” I reached for him, but he scooted away and huddled in the corner of the shower.
I exhaled and swallowed. “Ethan, you’re hurt. I’m tired. You’re tired. Please. Let me just get you out of the shower and bandaged. You can go to bed after. I promise.”
Once more, I reached for him, but he jerked away, this time kicking his foot out and screaming for me to get away.
He caught me in the chin, knocking me on my ass.
I let out a snarl, tired out of my fucking mind, and went to his room and called Enzo from my phone.
“I fucking need you in here. E fell. He’s bleeding. He’s fighting me.”
“Coming,” Enzo said before disconnecting the line.
A moment later, he burst into the room, looking as exhausted as I felt.
“Come on,” he muttered, going into the bathroom with me, E’s meds in his hand.
Ethan was still curled on the floor, his elbow bleeding from where he’d fallen and opened up one of his wounds.
Enzo reached in to help E up, but once again, E fought, kicking out and knocking Enzo into me.
Enzo let out a snarl and latched onto E’s leg and dragged him kicking and screaming across the floor.
“Help! HELP! Don’t touch me! Please. Please. PLEASE! HELP! Don’t! Don’t!” E shrieked.
I took the meds Enzo tossed at me and worked as fast as I could to deliver them into E’s veins. His words faded off, tears leaking from his eyes as he stared at the ceiling from his back.
“Don’t…” he whispered. “I don’t… like to be… touched…”
I swallowed hard as his lashes fluttered and he faded away much like Rosalie had.
We were quiet for a moment as we stared at Ethan’s battered face.
I let my eyes drift over his naked body. He’d lost a lot of weight.
“Fuck,” I whispered as I took in the damage across his skin. So many bruises and deep cuts.
“What the fuck,” Enzo murmured.
I followed his gaze to see Ethan’s groin. It was black and blue, his balls torn to fuck.
Bite marks on his dick. His balls. His fucking thighs. So many teeth marks.
Bile burned my throat as I stared in horror at the mess. He had stitches in some places. The doctors told us he was banged up, but they weren’t specific, likely because E told them not to share the information with us. We hadn’t even told his parents what happened to him because they’d been through enough. We thought it better this way, and now I was glad we hadn’t called them.
I rushed to the toilet and heaved my guts into the bowl. Nothing about this shit was OK. It was so much worse than I thought. I had no idea what he’d gone through. What Fox had gone through. The thought they’d endured so much fucked up shit made me heave again.
I wiped my lips and flushed the toilet before rinsing my mouth at the sink. When I was done, I grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink and knelt next to Enzo.
“It’ll be OK,” Enzo whispered. I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or E, but it didn’t matter.
Nothing felt OK.
Quickly, we wordlessly worked on bandaging his wounds before we hefted him up and took him to his bed.
Enzo grabbed him a pair of boxers and slid them up his legs, and I got a t-shirt on him.
