Hold Me Close (Edited Version)

Chapter 33

I didn't know what to do, locked up in my room, but after an hour of waiting and hearing nothing, I grew frustrated and went to my door. I banged as loud as I could. "Hey! Let me out!" I shouted. I waited to see if I could hear anything, but after a minute of nothing, I growled in annoyance. "Bitch..." I muttered.

I rolled back over to my window and looked out. I pursed my lips, grinding my jaw. I had to do something. I couldn't sit here anymore and wait. I was about to start looking for something to try and break the door handle off when I heard a groan from the next room over. I turned my head and listened. It came again and I quickly wheeled myself over to the wall that separated my room from my dad's. I was quiet as I listened to the sound of shuffling and other noises. Then I heard muffled voices.

"Just stop already. You mught as well give into it," my mother was saying.

There was a tossing around, probably from my dad's bed, and I heard my dad's gravelly voice though the wall. "Where's Jacob...?" he asked. "He hasn't come to see me..."

"Wouldn't you like to know," my mother snorted. "Maybe if you hurry up, I'll let him hold your hand on your death bed."

I felt rage boil and spill over inside me. That... That witch! How could she be so-... inhuman? I had to do something now, I couldn't sit around waiting anymore. I moved back to my window quickly and frowned. It was probably the worst idea I'd ever had, but it was my only idea. I opened my window and struggled with the screen before I just kicked it out. My side was burning from my movements and I took deep breaths before I stood up slowly, steadying myself with the wheelchair. I peered out the window and swallowed nervously. I wouldn't consider something like this if I was fully healthy, now I had a hole in my side and the remnants of morphine in my system. This was a bad idea.

Carefully, I started to climb out. My side was aching and I started sweating from the pain of supporting with too much of my abs when I shouldn't have been using them at all. I hesitated and glanced back at my wheelchair. I spotted the first aid box the doctor had insisted I take home with my in case of an emergency and decided I'd grab it just in case. It wouldn't hurt to have a little of insurance. Once my legs were over the window sill, I took one last look. The ground looked so far away it scared me and I looked away. But I couldn't stop. I steeled my nerve and pushed myself forward, propelled out the window.

The ground came faster than I thought it would and I gasped in pain as my legs slammed too hard into the dirt and grass. I dropped to my hands and knees, my legs freezing with the pain. I grabbed my side as my wound split open from the impact. "Ah... Shit..." I said and coughed. I felt warm blood seep through my clothes and fingers, and start to drip down my arm. I steadied my breathing and got to my feet slowly. I was okay.

With a deep breath, I stepped forward and almost fell down. My ankle hurt like hell and I gripped it. I probably sprained it or fractured it in the fall. I knew it was going to suck trying to walk on my ankle. However, that didn't stop me as I limped my way as fast as I could down the street.

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The walk to Ryan's took longer than it normally would have and by the time I reached his house, it was getting dark out. Dusk was setting in and I would've had to walk in the dark if I had waited much longer. I hobbled up the porch steps and reached up for the knocker. It took me a minute to catch my breath, then I knocked on the door. There was a moment of no response before the door swung in and I laid my eyes on Ryan's beautiful face.

"Hello-?" He started to speak, but his voice cut off and his eyes widened when he saw me standing on the porch steps, pale as a ghost and covered in blood all the way to my knees. He quickly reached out and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "Jacob? What happened?" he asked, pulling me inside.

I let him lead me as I leaned on him for support. "My mom's gonna kill my dad..." I said.

He was surprised, but not enough to forget the main issue. "What happened?" he asked again. "Did she do this to you?"

I shook my head. "Had to jump out of my window..." I said, closing my eyes. I was exhausted and these questions were pointless, but I was too tired to complain. "It hurt..." I said.

He hugged me to him. "Come on. Let's fix you up," he said.

I shook my head again, more adamantly this time. "No," I said. "We have to call the police."

"I know, but you're losing blood and if we don't fix it now, it's going to be dangerous for you," Ryan said more urgently.

That wasn't what I wanted to focus on, but I sighed and nodded. He was right. Ryan helped me up the stairs and into his room. He told me his parents were out, so we had the house to ourselves. I sat down on his bed, my hand still holding my side as I grunted in pain. I held out the first aid box that I'd had clutched to my chest and he took it, unwrapping my side and looking over the bleeding injury. I knew it was a mess without even looking at it, but Ryan seamed confident he could fix it. He cleaned the wound, apologizing every time I hissed, and rewrapped my side when he was finished. He noticed my slight limp and also checked my ankle, wrapping it to give it some support from all the stress I put on it by walking when I shouldn't have.

He wiped the sweat off my forehead with a damp cloth. "You okay?" he asked.

I gave a weak laugh. "Do I look okay?" I responded.

He smiled lightly, but he was serious. "Not really. You look like hell," he said.

I sighed. "Yeah. Can we call the police now?"

He handed me some clean clothes and I changed into them quickly, careful not to jerk my side too fast. I was going to be back in the hospital in no time, I thought bitterly. Ryan pulled out the phone and dial nine-one-one while I changed. I expected him to return with news that my mother would be arrested and thrown in jail, a bit much but I could hope. However, his eyebrows were drawn together when he walked back into the room. "Great," he said, irritated.

I frowned. "What's wrong?"

"They thought I was pranking them," Ryan said, obviously still annoyed by this fact. "Apparently, they're not too inclined to believe a teenager saying their boyfriend's mother is trying to murder his father."

I grew panicked. "What are we going to do? If we can't get the police over to my house, my mom is going to kill my dad!" I said.

He saw my distress and hurried over to hold me by my shoulders. "Hey, hey, it's okay. Calm down," he said. "We'll think of something. Do you know anyone else we can call?"

I hesitated before my eyes landed on the first aid kit. "Yeah," I finally said. "I know someone."

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