Lexi
The friends we have as children shape us. Some of them we keep forever, some of them we lose along the way... but all of them leave something behind... or in his case, take something as they leave.
Mason Jennings held my heart in his hands at...
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I drove like a man with a death wish to get to Lexi.
The door to their apartment open before Sam and I reached it and Kate ran to and hurries us up the last few stairs, bolting back inside with us in tow.
I don't know what I expected... but it wasn't what I saw.
Lexi was lying on her side on the floor behind their couch, unconscious. There were rips in her shirt, one of which I could see her skin was an angry red through, turning purple across the left side of her stomach. Her bottom lip was cut and has bled into the corner of her mouth, joining up with a now dried trail of blood stemming from a few centimetre long cut underneath her left eye. The most concerning thing other than her being out cold was the blood covering her right forearm, coming from what look like a nasty gash.
"Fucking hell..." Sam breathes out, "She needs a hospital."
"She made me promise not to take her there." Lia replied, holding ice to the top of Lexi's head. She sees me looking at where her hands are and explains, "She didn't lose enough blood to feint and she made it all the way back here completely conscious. So we checked everywhere for a wound we missed and I found a small lump on the back of her head. She needs to get scans and be under concussion protocol. Whether she likes hospitals or not it's where she needs to be. We're not qualified for this."
"Sophia's coming." Kate explains but Sam and I look at her confused so she goes on, "Her parents are doctors. She's calling them for advice on their way but they were on the other side of town at the club still."
"So in the meantime we leave her passed out on the floor, possible bleeding internally?" Lia asks harshly.
I wince when she mentions internal injuries. The thought that something could be seriously harming her inside while we stand around debating what to do make me want to take her to the emergency room regardless of whether she kicks and screams.
But I won't. Not because I don't desperately want to, but because there's a pit in my stomach telling me that I know why she doesn't want to go there. It's like being stuck in the end of dream, grasping at floating images and snippets of the truth. I can't see the full picture but I just know her waking up in hospital is a bad idea.
I kneel down beside her, taking in every detail of the marks on her body and lifting her damaged arm up in my hands. The blood smears under my hold as I gently wipe enough away to see the skin underneath it properly.
I don't have the words to explain the sensation that erupts in my chest when I uncover five lines of near equal thickness that are fading from an angry red to a deep shade of purple.
Finger marks.
Lexi winces as her eyes flutter, her breath quickening and becoming shallower. She tries to push me away, letting out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a sob when she puts pressure through her injured arm. I wrap my hand in hers carefully, applying enough pressure for her to understand I'm really here and not part of a dream but not so much that I could hurt her.
