Ronny

Chapter 52

Adelina Celine Torres

Two weeks have passed since Ron started working with his dad. I have tried to be patient, but I can't stop wondering why the heck he is working with him. No way he just forgives his father, but if he was going to do something I thought he would've done it by now.

Right now I am in his kitchen cooking him lasagna for when he gets home from work. I came over after finishing all my school work, since school starts back up next week.

I dread going back, but it is what it is I guess.

I make him lasagna then wrap it in foil to keep in warm while I wait for him. It's only six thirty, which is a little later than usual for him to get back from work, but not too late that it's strange.

When the clock rolls around to nine thirty and he is still nowhere to be seen, I start to worry. I transferred the food to the microwave to try and not to let it get too cold.

I sit down on his couch since my feet hurt, and send him a third text in a row, worried where he could possibly be. He is never back this late.

Another half hour passes by and I am driving myself crazy with worry, until the front door creaks open and I jump off the couch.

Ronny come into the kitchen and my mouth drops open at the sight of him. His white shirt is soaked with blood and he clutches his torso with his hand, his face covered in bruises and scratches.

"Aaron!" I rush over to him, putting my arms on him when he looks like he is about to fall over. "Sorry I'm late." He says.

"Oh my gosh stop it, come on let me help you" I say, helping him walk to his room and into his bathroom. "What happened?" I ask him.

I sit him down on the closed toilet seat, gently unbuttoning and removing his linen shirt. "Nothing."

I pause and raise an eyebrow at him, "Just a fight." He finally says.

I get a wet towel and try to clear off some of the blood from his torso so I can at least see where the blood is coming from. I finally am able to see a deep stab wound across his stomach, blood gushing out.

I press the cloth into it to try and control the blood, "Are you hurt anywhere else?" I ask him. He shakes his head and I look at him, my heart sinking at the sight of his busted lip, bruised cheek, and a cut across his face.

All over his body he has bruises and cuts, but nothing as large as the stab wound on his stomach. "Where is Mike?" I ask him. I know I can fix him up with supplies, but I have no supplies and he probably trusts Mike more than me.

"Not here. His bag is in the hallway. Black." He says through his teeth. I leave him and go to the hallway where I see a black duffle bag, so I quickly grab it and go back to Ron.

Returning to the bathroom, I pause for a second when I see him sitting there covered in blood, his legs spread and his head leaning back against the wall.

I go to him and open the bag, looking for what I need to stitch this thing up. The next five minute I spend carefully closing the cut after disinfecting it, doing my best to not hurt him. He doesn't show a single indicator that he is in any pain as I do so, which makes me wonder how he is human. Stitches hurt. Or maybe I am just a baby.

"You need to wash off," I tell him, moving his hair out of his face so I can see his eyes. I look down at him, his hazel eyes looking like they're in so much pain it kills me. "Would you like my help?" I offer.

"Are you just trying to shower with me?" he smirks.

"I will be keeping my clothes on. And you will keep your boxers on." I tell him, making him frown, "No fun." He mumbles, standing up from the seat and nearly falling over, but I wrap my arms around him and hold him up.