𝙸𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚝 | 𝙱𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝟹

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗𝚎

𝙹𝚞𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊
𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝙰𝚐𝚘

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The air was crisp, snow falling from the sky.

I had the house to myself for the first time in weeks. Mickey was comfortable leaving me alone overnight while he went and hooked up with Leslie Porter; Dad was in the city for some convention.

My bedroom was on the second floor, bigger than Mickey's but that's because he wanted me to live a better life than I came from. I had a fireplace situated in the corner of the room, the flames dancing and basking the room in an orange glow, my tv was mounted above the mantle, and decorations and medals from my cheer days scattered about. I sat in my bed, a king-sized mattress that was built into the floor. Grandad was worried I'd hurt myself if it was too high and Dad agreed. Mickey built it himself, he didn't trust construction workers to do it, and said he wanted to know I was going to be in something safe.

Mickey was more of my dad than my actual dad.

Home Alone played on the screen, a gentle hum from the sound systems keeping me company while I read over a section in my Foundations of Sports Medicine book, taking notes to turn in on Monday before finals. Everyone thought I had taken to sports medicine because of my love for the sport of cheer. And while that was part of it, the main reason was him.

Buzz cut hair, scruffy beard, ocean-colored eyes. Curtis Everett, my brother's best friend, the secret love of my life.

I wanted to be able to take care of him if he ever got hurt, he was the heir to one of the most dangerous families in the country. They specialized in illegal guns, the underground selling of drugs, and the organ trade. The Everetts were in on it if it was illegal and made lots of money. My favorite of the laws they broke was the illegal selling of art, the one-of-a-kind pieces sitting in the basement of their home while Mr. Everett waited for the wiring of money.

Sometimes, when Mr. Everett was out of town and Curtis had the house to himself, he'd bring me over so I could see them.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I drag my eyes up from the book, turning to look over at my balcony door, a figure hidden behind the sheer drapes. I knew who it was, he was the only person who dared to come to this house without Mickey being home. I pushed the white comforter away, wrapping my arms around me when I walked over to the door, pushing the curtains away and opening it.

Curtis stood before me, his nose dripping blood and a stab wound to his stomach, palm red from him trying to slow the bleeding.

"Oh my god," I ushered him in, flicking off the lights and locking my door, making sure the curtains were drawn again. If he was attacked, then people were still looking for him, this was something I was used to, hiding him. "What happened?"

"Dad scammed a man," he hissed when I pressed my hand to his stomach, the wound wasn't deep, a few butterfly bandages would suffice, but it needed to be cleaned, badly. "I'm the collateral they go for."

I lead him over to my bathroom, shutting the door and flicking on the light. "Shirt off," I pointed to the tub, turning around to get the first aid kit from under the sink. "Do you want the shower or the bath, we have to clean the wound."

"Whatever one you'll get in with me."

I smiled, shaking my head with a small laugh. "Tub it is," I reached beside him to turn the water on, steam filling the chilly air. Curtis wrapped his hand around my wrist, pulling me towards him and instinctively I lowered onto his lap. He always looked so tired.