“Yeah, it’s Royal, right?” He looks exhausted. His hair is a mess from running his hands through it so many times, I guess.
I look over my shoulder at Drake; his eyes are fixed on the driver in the car. I think I’ve learnt more about my brother this week than in the last, god, ten plus years—I’m impressed, hell, I’m proud. He looks at me and nods. “Let’s get inside that house,” he says emphatically.
Finn gasps as Drake walks to the door as if it’s his own home and pulls out a set of keys from his pocket. “Can he do that?”
Can he? I’d say no, nope, no way. Do I stop him? No, nope, no way. Instead, I walk up behind him and watch as he confidently opens the door. Before the door opens, we hear thesound of the car revving and peeling away from the curb. Finn’s ride just tears out like Verstappen in P1 in the last Grand Prix of the year.
“What’s up his arse?” I look at Finn, who just looks confused.
“I have no idea.” He shakes his head but shrugs. “I want to know if my friend is in there, and if he’s okay.”
Drake opens the door, and we step inside. It’s quiet the way every house should be well past midnight. Drake holds up his hand, stopping us from moving any further. With a cock of his head, he moves to the stairs, obviously listening for something—anything. “He’s here.”
How does he know? Another thing I don’t want to know, but I ask. “Where?”
My heart is in my throat as I follow him up the stairs. I want to turn the lights on, but because Drake hasn’t, I don’t ask. When we stop outside of the only door with a dull light shining underneath, I take a breath.
Now’s the moment Drake turns on the light, and the sight of my boy covered in bruises and blood has me ready to scream. Finn sobs, a keening cry behind me.
I crouch down on the floor to get close to my boy. “Memphis, it’s me. You’re gonna be okay.”
He flinches as I swipe his hair from forehead. I don’t know where to touch him, there seems to be bruises all over his body. His left eye flickers, so swollen I’m not sure if he can see anything with it. “Everything hurts,” he mumbles through split lips.
Then he says words that break my heart.
“This is your fault.”
He’s mad; he’s lost his damn mind. “This is”—he opens his arms up, showcasing the room and the blacked-out window, the plastic on the floor— “All your fault. I would’ve left you alone. You were no fun anymore, but having your bullyboys turn up just made me mad. Embarrassing me in front of the neighbours.” He’s pacing again, walking from left to right in front of me. Then he stomps up to me, his hand in my hair gripping so hard I can’t stop crying out as the pain from the earlier hit stabs though my head. He doesn’t let go, just tugs and tugs as he shakes my head from side to side.
“Stop, Simon. Stop. I don’t know what you’re talking about. How can you blame me? I don’t know what happened. Let me go. We can talk about it sensibly. This isn’t you; you don’t do this. I’m sorry I hurt you when I left, but I don’t know anything about any visit.”
What does he mean? How was Royal here? I can’t think properly. My ears are ringing from the first punches. Even if Royal was here, it still doesn’t make sense.
His hand relaxes and releases my hair, and I sag back on the chair. The ropes around me loosen and fall away, and I think I’m being let go. “God, Simon, thank you.” I look around for my clothes but can’t see them.
“I’m not finished with you yet, boy.” His hands are fists, and as much as I try to defend myself, he’s too big, too heavy, too lost in rage to stop. I do the only thing I can think of and curl up into a ball and take the kicks and punches until I give in to the pain and lose consciousness.
The light comes on, making me curl up tighter, but it’s not Simon. There’s more than one set of footsteps; has he come back with other men? No, someone is crying, then someone is next to me. Oh god, at last, it’s Royal. He’s here, how did he find me?
I flinch when he touches me. Can’t he see how much I hurt? “This is your fault.” Tears burn my already burning eyes. “He said it was your fault.”
I hear him gasp, and his hand leaves my face. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”
“No, don’t go.” I try to lift my hand, but it hurts too much. “How did you know?”
“Finn called me. He’s here with me. We’re getting an ambulance for you; it won’t be long. Can you stay still until they come? I don’t know how bad you’re hurt.”
“It’s really bad, Royal. He was crazy. Where is he? Have the police got him?” I try to open my eyes, to sit up but neither seem possible. I groan and shift, looking up at Royal. He gets the message and lifts me tenderly, but I still wince.
The crying is getting quiet now. It’s Finn, and he looks devastated. “S’okay, Finn. Don’t cry, please don’t cry.”
The sound of heavy footsteps from outside the room stops Finn from getting closer. I’m shocked to see Drake with the paramedics, more shocked when the police follow them in.
Royal shifts so I’m looking at the lady. She’s blurry; I try to focus as she kneels. It only takes them seconds to decide I need to be in hospital.
“We’ll follow in the car,” Royal says as he leans in. His lips touch mine so briefly and softly, I could’ve imagined it.
“No, don’t leave me. Not again,” I beg, reaching for him. He looks at the Paramedic who nods.
