I've Never Cried

Chapter Forty-seven - "Lethal"

"I've Never Cried"

Chapter Forty-seven

'Lethal' 

Scene

Meanwhile...

Nick's POV

Selena sat beside me on the couch, her eyes following my every movement as I sifted through the ancient first aid kit. We hadn't spoken since I'd allowed her back into the house, and frankly, I was glad. I wasn't sure I could handle much more conversation, especially out of her. 

With Selena came trauma - of that I was certain. There would never be anything she said that wouldn't be lethal. Every breath contained something that could change lives in an instant. I couldn't imagine such an existence. It must've been miserable, and lonely; having words that cut like knives, whether you wanted them to or not. 

Maybe that was why she was always so frustratingly right when we were dating. She carved the future when she spoke; her voice demanded the world to change along with it. The crazy part? It always did.

Except when she needed it to.

"I can't find the gauze," I whispered, mostly to myself. I kept sifting through the large bin, looking for the roll of textured cloth. "It's got to be in here somewhere."

"I can help," Selena said, still watching my struggle. I nodded, and she shifted closer to me, peering down into the bin as well. She winced each time she breathed, and I knew that she was in more pain than she let on. 

Finally, I found the roll of gauze, and along with it grabbed some rubbing alcohol, peroxide, and a couple of painkillers.

"Here we go," I said as I lifted each item out of the bin, placing them on the coffee table. I turned toward her then, and without my asking, she extended her wounded hand. It looked pretty nasty, the skin around the open wound had already began to yellow. I gulped, worried that I would make it worse.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Selena said, noticing my hesitation. With that I nodded, and proceeded to treat the injury.

"This might sting a little," I said as I opened the bottle of rubbing alcohol. I began pouring some of its contents onto her hand, and she let out a small scream.

"Damn it to hell," she said, gritting her teeth. I glanced up at her, and she had her eyes closed as she grunted through the pain. I cracked the smallest smile at her expression; there was a moment everything felt okay. 

But it quickly faded.

"Almost done," I said as I wiped away the excess liquid. I then lifted the gauze and began wrapping it around her palm, stopping once I felt it was secure. "Hope that wasn't too bad."

"Not as bad as the rest of me," she said, pulling her hand away and studying the work I'd done. I reached for the bottle of painkillers and raised them to her eyeline.

"Need some of these?" I asked. She stood then, and I remained on the couch.

"You tell me," she muttered. Slowly she turned her back to me, lifting the bottom of her shirt halfway up. "Is it bad? Because it hurts like it is."

"Holy shit." I said, shocked at what I saw.

Selena's back was covered in scrapes and bruises larger than my hand. I quickly played the fight over in my head, wondering when exactly she had acquired these injuries.

"I'm pretty sure it was the stairs," Sel said, practically reading my mind. "When she dragged me off the porch, I hit the stars a few times. Not to mention the body slam into the concrete."