The Arrangement

Chapter Forty-Four

Ashton

Blair's body doesn't just shake in my hold, it completely trembles and from the way she's silent I quickly gather she's likely to have gone into state of shock.

The blood from her cut up hands and feet is everywhere. I'd lifted her slightly when her legs gave way and there's no way I can let her put her feet back on the floor cause there's no knowing how much glass she already has in them. Nor is it worth the risk of her getting more caught up in there.

"I'm going to take you into the bathroom," I say softly and the way her whole body tenses is fucking painful. "Please Blair, just listen to me, we're not going to hurt you, I promise you"

"Why... why did you" she stutters, unable to get the words out but I don't need her to because I know exactly what she's trying to say.

Why did we do this.

And in truth I'm glad she can't get the words out because I can't give her a reasonable explanation.

What the hell am I meant to say?.

We locked you down here because you blurted out about someone about killing someone whilst you were wasted and Carter went into full on panic mode.

Somehow I don't think any explanation I give her is going to cut it right now.

In truth I highly doubt after this she's even going to give us a chance to say anything, I wouldn't be surprised if once the shock wears off, she demands to leave. And at this point she has every right to.

She doesn't attempt to speak again, instead her body shudders as another sob rips from her violently.

Despite the fact I know she doesn't want any of us near her right now, I shift her to scoop her up and carry her into the bathroom. Glass crunching under my boots with every step I take.

Once we're inside the bathroom I place her down onto the counter and take a step back, only now taking in the damage. Her hands and feet are torn to shreds, blood spilling from them and dripping to the floor. Her pyjama shorts are soaked too and I'm going to fucking kill Carter. I don't care how much I love him, I'm going to kill him after this.

She was so fucking scared, terrified to the point she wet herself. No one deserves to be pushed to that extreme.

I don't give a fuck what she said last night in her drunken state there is no fucking way she's a threat to anyone.

"I need to get you out of these wet clothes and see to your wounds Blair" I say but as I do it only causes her to cry even harder.

"I just want to go home" she whimpers shaking her head, the sound fucking heartbreaking.

"And you can," I assure her, hoping that somehow it'll ease her fears just the slightest bit. "I'll take you home myself okay, I fucking promise you as soon as we've sorted this I'll take you home"

"No!" She snaps and goes to slip down from the counter.

I attempt to reach out to stop her but as I do her feet hit the ground and she lets out a horrifying scream her legs buckling and I can't establish if it's out of fear from me or the shards of glass in her feet.

The pain must overtake the fear though because she reaches out for me and I don't even hesitate to step forward and take her full weight against my body, heaving her up off her feet.

"I just want to go home" she whimpers again and instead of setting her back down onto the counter I just hold her in my arms as she clings onto me and continues to sob.

It takes a good ten or fifteen minutes for her to calm down enough for me to sit her down and make a start on cleaning up her wounds.

She hisses and flinches as I get to work on her feet first, following her instructions as she talks me through removing the shards of glass, cleaning everything away before I finally get the wrapping them in bandages.

I don't mention the fact that there isn't going to be a hope in hell of her being able to walk around and look after herself if she goes home. Especially not when I take in how shredded her hands are as well.

She's going to need someone around to look after her but right now I know it's not the time to point that out. Especially as I know there's not a hope in hell she'll even consider letting any of us do it for her. Which I can't blame her for at all.

At least she lets me help wash her down and change into a fresh set of clothes despite how she continues to cry the whole time. A mix of the fear still lingers and what I gather to be embarrassment as well.

I want to tell her she has nothing to be embarrassed about, that this is our fault but instead I decide it's best I keep quiet for now. Knowing that anything I say still isn't going to help.

"Why did you lock me down here?" She finally asks as I bandage up one of her hands. Her voice a hell of a lot more even now than it was earlier.

I wonder if now is really the right time to be having this conversation but as I peer up at her I can't still see the fear in her eyes that goes with the way her hands still tremble.

"I think that's something we should all discuss together" I say in an attempt to hold off for a while but as soon as the words come out she flips.

"No!" She shouts shoving me away from her. "I'm going home! You said I could go home!" She then snaps and before I can even attempt to stop her she staggers to her feet.

I don't know if it's the panic or adrenaline fuelling her movements but she manages to make it a few steps before the pain seems to register. Her face scrunching up and tears springing to her eyes as she tries to get past me out of the bathroom.

"Blair you can't walk or use your hands for at least a couple of days" I say trying to stop her but instead of physically doing anything I just hold my hands up and take steps back, mirroring the ones she takes.

"You said I could leave, you promised me I could leave" she whimpers, the tears now streaming down her cheeks.

Each step she attempts to take clearly hurts as she hisses and stumbles, her unwrapped hand smearing blood across the wall as she attempts to keep herself upright.