Royal love

Chapter 77

I take Sam's head off my lap and pull myself towards Hayden. When I reach him, I put my head on his shoulder and wrap my arm around his back.

He cries. So much has happened. I watch him try to fight it, blink away his tears, but it doesn't work. He cries, he cries until there's no tears left and then he just makes crying sounds. I feel his mixed emotions as he cries and I don't know how to respond, so I just hug him and don't move until he wants to.

"We should go," he says wiping his tears and getting up. I can't stand up, can't chase after him as he throws the pile of our friends over his shoulder as if they weigh nothing. He doesn't leave me anyone. I pull myself along. He doesn't even look back.

I feel a shift in him, colder, angrier. I feel the gun shards digging deeper and deeper into my skin as I'm forced to keep pulling myself.

The fire is spreading fast. It's already all over the alls of the whole building. Most of the doors and walls are metal so the building gets so hot I feel my skin melting. Every time I try to make myself stand using a wall or railing, I instantly regrets it when the metal sears my skin.

I'm the end, Hayden and I manage to get ourselves, and everyone else, out of the building. We disappear into a forming crowd of people emptying out of the building and watching it from outside as it starts falling.

I manage to get myself to my feet once we're outside but I still can't keep up with Hayden's pace.

"We can't get help here, the doctors will know who you are and since your missing they'll think I was the one that kidnapped you."

I don't respond.

I can't.

"Just keep up," Hayden says. His cold words just remind me of the pain he's feeling, so I can't be mad at him.

Though it's difficult for me to keep up, I manage a good pace. Hayden seems to know where he's going until he turns into an old, shack-like house.

I look around at the rusted pipes on the outside, the straw formed into a cone as a roof, the black—burnt—wood that's practically falling apart as walls.

I look at Hayden in a way to ask him "where are we?" And he responds with: "just trust me."

"GRAYSON!" Hayden yells. His voice raising above his usual yell.

A, balding, older man comes out in a t-shirt and long pant. "Hayden?" He asks as if it's been years. "It's been years! Why have you never stopped off? You look so old!"

"I've been busy."

"Clearly! What can I help you with?" Grayson doesn't even blind twice at me, who's covered in shards of gun and blood, or the pile of people Haydens varying on his shoulders.

"I need your help with these people, they were in an explosion. Very close to the thing that exploded," Hayden says, tossing them onto the floor beside him. "Help her first," he says pointing to me as he sits on a green couch with so many rips in it I can't even count them, the stuffing inside the couch is falling out, the couch doesn't look very comfortable.

"Okay," Grayson says with a smile turning to me. "Come with me." I go to follow him.

"No," Hayden barks. "Do it here, Gray."

"You know me too well," Grayson says with a cheeky smile. He claps his hands together and smiles at me. "Okay, on the coffee table."

I lay on the coffee table and Grayson goes into another room.

I still can't talk when I look up at Hayden, who's sitting on the couch right beside me, and ask, with my eyes, "what would he have done?" To which Hayden shakes his head. Maybe he doesn't understand what I asked.

"Get her something for her throat while your over there," he orders.

"So bossy," Grayson says from the other room. "Just like your father."

I keep my eyes on Hayden. He won't keep eye contact with me. I watch him swallow, hard. His blinking gets faster. He takes a deep breath. Exhales sharply.

Grayson comes back. He's holding a tray of all kinds of surgical materials. There's a bottle of alcohol on it too.

"This is for the pain," he says with a smile as he opens the alcohol and hands it to me.

I don't know how long it's been since I last had alcohol. I think I went through withdrawal while I was knocked out, or during the time I was kidnapped. It's hard to remember.

"Well," Grayson says raising his eyebrows. "You gonna drink it?"

I nod and pul the bottle to my lips. Before I know it, I've drank half of it.

"Okay," he says. "Slow down I still need that for the wounds." He takes the bottle from me and pours the remaining liquid all over my leg before drinking what's left.

The pain is searing and I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from screaming.  Hayden is now standing in the door way watching me. I don't know when he moved but he did.

The alcohol brings the saliva back to my throat, so it feels less hoarse, but I still can't talk.

"All done," Grayson says clapping his hands together and smiling proudly at his work.

"Now the others," Hayden exhales.

"I'm going, I'm going," Grayson says throwing his hands in the air in mock-surrender.

I get off the coffee table and sit on the couch, where Hayden once sat. Grayson brings Sam to the table and lays her where I had been laying earlier.

He goes in a random order, fixing everyone up one by one. After Sam goes Rowan, after him Levy and so on.

Once everyone is bandaged up and laying in a heap on the couch, Hayden turns to Grayson and asks:

"How much do I owe you?"

To which Grayson responds with a smile and a laugh.

"How about a beer?" He suggests.

"I'm underage."

"That's never stopped you before," Grayson laughs, bending over and slapping his knees in amusement. "We can bring your dolly too."

Hayden's facial expression changes. Hardens, somehow. His eyes glare and his eyebrows furrow.

"She is not 'my dolly', Grayson," his words are so sharp I can practically feel the edges.

Grayson just laughs and puts his hands up in mock-surrender again before looking at me and changing the subject completely.

"Hayden over here," he says. "Really knows how to party."

Word count: 1118
11-24-23
6:55 pm
(Not revised)
I'm exited to write some good stories abt Hayden for once 💀