I gather my pyjamas and listen for any movements before opening the door. I go into the bathroom and lock the door.
Getting my jeans off is a struggle. I never want to wear denim ever again because this is hell.
Everything hurts. My head. My body. My heart.
I step under the hot water and sigh. There's nothing a nice shower can't fix. Except maybe hunger—I never did have lunch since we left in period two but skipping a meal is not new for me.
I put my hair up into a bun so I don't get it wet. I look around for the soap and notice in one corner of the shower there's a bunch of girl products. This stuff wasn't here yesterday. There’s shampoo, conditioner, body and face wash and a razor. Bloody hell. When was the last time I shaved?
With that in mind, I spend an extra few minutes shaving from the floor of the shower. It’s uncomfortable—nearing painful—on my ribs but worth it.
My thoughts travel back to Jace. God, I’ve waited three years to see him again.
Despite my brief show of anger…I’m not mad. I’m hurt, I’m upset, I’m confused but I’m not angry. There’s a reason he didn’t answer me all those years ago and I’ve waited three years to hear it.
God, how many times have I played it over in my head?
When Dec died, J didn’t leave my side all day and all night. I lost my sibling and Jace lost his best friend.
Helen told me why he didn’t answer me…but I never wanted to believe it. But I had to and itkilled meto not be able to confront him, to scream in his face, to break down and hopefully know that the decision my father made me make three years ago was worth it.
When I eventually get out, I search the cupboards for the towels. There's several light pink and teal towels in the top corner, standing out against the plain black and white ones. I pick one out and wrap it around me. It’s incredibly soft.
I take an unsteady breath, leaning back against the wall. A wave of emotion comes over me suddenly. I push it away and get dressed, the soft feeling of pyjama’s is a nice change from denim.
Raised voices are heard in the living room as I cross the hall. I gently close my door behind me.
I open the concealed zipper where I stashed some money and first aid shit. I pull out a bandage so I can wrap my ribs again.
There's a hesitant knock on the door. When I don't say anything, it slowly opens.
Alec pushes the door open far enough for him to stand in the doorway.
"Can we talk?" He asks, hesitantly. I fiddle with the bandage in my hands and nod slightly.
He comes in and I notice the others standing uncomfortably in the hallway. I'm relieved to see Jace isn't one of them. I sigh and motion for them to come in.
"I've been talking to a friend of mine and he's told me they don't wrap broken ribs anymore because they can stop you from breathing properly," Alec says, concerned.
"Oh." That's not what I expected him to say.
"I guess, the person I learnt from was old school," Alec rambles slightly.
I notice the ice pack and tea towel in his hands. "Are those…"
"Oh, yeah." He hands them over. I put the bandage back in my bag. The guys eyes stay glued on my bag.
I slowly sit down on the bed, leaning against the bedhead. I position the ice pack so it's right on my broken and bruised ribs. I ditch the tea towel and put it straight on, hissing slightly at the sudden cold.
The guys awkwardly stand around the bed. "You may as well sit," I mumble. My manners have clearly gone flying out the window.
Luc sits directly in front of me, a grimace crossing his features when he moves his leg. The twins lean back against the bedhead beside me. Dom and Alec sit at the end of the bed.
"Rory," Luc starts and I flinch. I try to cover it but I know he saw it.
He hasn’t really called me Rory. I mean, it’s my name but he never uses it. Something about him using it now makes it sting more.
"Butterfly," he says softly but that hurts more. He sighs harshly. "I didn't mean to keep this all from you. I just…I wanted to be sure everything worked, that it panned out before we told you anything."
