Dont F*ck With Me

Chapter Eight: Weston

I felt like an idiot.

Austin was literally driving right now. He'd put up enough of a fight to still be able to drive. Literally drive. I could barely move my arms and that asshole's driving.

The car swerved quickly to the left, recentering us in the lane we'd been starting to drift out of, and my head slammed into the window next to me.

"FUCK" My hand moved up instinctively to grab my head but that only caused a new wave of pain to rush through my arm and I winced.

So, apparently Austin wasn't okay enough to drive well, but he was still well enough to drive, and I definitely would not have been capable at the moment.

My guy was bigger though.

I just know that Fletcher would've kicked Austin's ass the exact same way he did mine. Then I'd be the one driving him home and he'd be the one wincing in the passenger seat.

Nobody be wincing if I learned how to throw a damn punch though.

It just looked so much easier in the movies. I still don't really understand what I did wrong with it.

Maybe it was just Fletcher's face. The man was huge and built, he's clearly going to be a harder target. And the guys in movies just have the stunt doubles fall and be all dramatic and shit the second they get near them. They wouldn't have done any better than I did.

The car jolted to an abrupt stop in front of my house.

"Get the fuck out man, I'm not pulling into your driveway."

I didn't bother responding to Austin as I reached for the door handling, clenching my jaw to stop myself from crying out at the pains shooting up my arm. I was barely a step away from the truck when Austin pulled away, the speed closing the door for me cuz God knows how I would've reached back to do it myself.

With Austin gone, my need to move quickly disappeared, although I know my dad would be coming home from work soon.

Oh fuck, Lyssa's practice had to be getting out soon. What the fuck was I gonna say when her and Mom got home and saw me like this.

I gotta get in the fucking house.

I forced my legs into motion. Every fucking inch felt like a goddamn marathon but at least I was moving.

Left foot. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Right foot. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Left foot. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Right foot...

I have absolutely no idea what failed but before the pain of my right foot reconnecting with the earth could hit me, the panic did. The ground slipped from under my feet and I didn't have enough control over my own body to dictate where I ended up. I landed on the same shoulder I crashed into the concrete with and pain shot up my arm.

I can't fucking do this. I... I.... I just.... I...

I didn't give a fuck who saw what anymore; I just wanted to go inside. I can't do this anymore.

I don't remember consenting to the tears that starting to leak from my eyes, but at least they didn't hurt. They seemed to be the only thing that didn't at the moment.

I just want this to be over.

I closed my eyes, just lying there and crying for a minute. I had no idea how I was going to get back up and no options and Mom and Lyssa were gonna come home and I was just gonna be lying in the grass bleeding and holy fuck I hope Dad gets home first.

I'm not a praying kind of guy, but I prayed with every ounce of faith I'd ever had that Dad came home first today, that Mom and Lys didn't find me like this.

The sob that tore through me hurt too much to continue doing, but I couldn't stop it.

I heard the car engine pull into the driveway, but I couldn't bring myself to look over just yet. I wanted just one more second before I knew if my prayers were answered. I needed one more second of hope before...

"Weston?"

The fog of the pain granted me another couple seconds of hope by not letting me place the name.

"Hey, hey! Holy shit, you're in bad shape."

I felt a pair of gentle hands touch the shoulder that wasn't on fire and one of them move up and press something soft against my cheek. I opened my eyes, curiosity getting the best of me.

"Cassie?"

What the fuck was she doing at my house? How the fuck did she know where I lived?

"Please, just... whatever it is, do it tomorrow. I can't... I can't take anymore today."

I'd had enough, I just wanted to go home. I was so freaking close. I just needed to make it in the damn door.

"Hey, I'm not here to hurt you, okay?" The soft towel thing moved to my other cheek, and I closed my eyes in relief at the feeling of something that didn't hurt.

"No, no, no, keep your eyes open, okay? I think you probably need to go to the hospital."

I opened my eyes again, "I just want to go inside."

"And you can absolutely do that. But, first we're gonna take a little ride, okay?"

She set the towel down, sliding her hands under my shoulders, "To do that though, you're gonna have to help me get you up, do you think you can do that?"

I nodded my head at her, wincing at the feeling.

"Okay, on three then. You've got this."

I swear to God I've stood up before but trying to move on three made me feel like a fucking newborn baby. I know she was trying to be gentle on my shoulders, but that didn't stop the shooting pain from coursing through them as she pulled me to my feet.

She ducked her head under my good shoulder, taking most of my weight off me, "See? The worst part's over. Now we just gotta get you into the car. We're so close, c'mon."

Thank God, she didn't make me walk around to the passenger side, settling for the backseat of the car instead.

"C'mon, you've got this, alright? Just a little step up and then it's over, okay? So close."

The hold I had on her arm turned into a fucking death grip as my leg moved across the gap between the driveway and the car, but eventually I made it inside.

"Alright, there you go. Good job, okay? Now, we're just gonna go for a little drive. I'm gonna be as careful as I can. We'll go slow and smooth."

"No bumps" I practically begged, the mere idea of hitting a pothole right now made me wanna break down into tears again.

"No bumps." She nodded at me, closing the door slowly as she smiled at me. I never noticed how soft her eyes were before. They were nice, warm almost, and reassuring.

Once the door closed, she moved quickly to her seat up front, sliding into the driver's seat and starting the car in what felt like a millisecond.

"You promise no bumps?" As we started backing out of the driveway, my fear crept back up.

She turned her body to face behind us and make sure we were clear, her eyes dropping down to meet mine for a split second after I spoke.

"Of course, I promise. It'll be nice and smooth, okay? No bumps."

She turned her body back to the front, switching the car into drive and starting to make her way down my street.