Darkest City

Chapter 2.

I've watched it done on the medical channel.

He came straight towards me; I couldn't look anywhere but at him. Placing both his hands on the counter to steady himself, I could see that his knuckles were all bruised and bleeding. Blinking down at the counter for a second, he finally lifts his gaze to mine I can see his beautiful face isn't any better than his knuckles. His jawline bruised, eyes starting to swell and a busted lip, all stared at me. "A twenty pack of RedKing, and a light." I just stared at him. His voice was deeper than I was expecting, huskier, sexier. I know I must have looked stupid just staring at him but I had to hear him speak again. His voice will be one I'll dream about once he's gone. "Hello, you in there?"

Without saying a word I spun in my chair and unlocked the cabinet behind me where we keep all the cigarettes and lighters. I grabbed the RedKings and a red light to match; I heard him fall before I turned back around. Rushing to the other side of the counter, I could see he was still conscious, but only just. "You need to go to a hospital!" I used both arms to help get him get into a sitting position against the counter. He was heavier than he looked.

This close I could see that his head wound was large enough to need stitches and the pool of blood at his waist indicated that his head wasn't the only problem.

"No! No hospital!" There was a hardness to his voice that demanded compliance. I couldn't imagine what's happened to those who dared go against him and I wasn't about to find out.

"Fine. No hospital. At least let me help you. If you die, here in this store, I'm probably going to lose my job!" He gave me this questioning look as if trying to figure out whether or not I was being serious or not. I was. If the police had to turn up to take a body away and see me; a high schooler; there's no way to overlook me. Boss would get in trouble and I'd be out of a job.

Not giving it a second thought I rushed to my feet and locked the store door. It was half an hour until closing and I doubt anyone will be coming in now. Next, I grabbed the stores first aid kit, along with a mini sewing kit; a small vodka and some dish towels.

Silas looked ten times paler when I got back to his side. His breaths were rocking him from side to side; his eyes barely open! "Do you feel nauseous? Is your vision bleary? Can you hear me okay?" From my very brief knowledge of head injuries, even I could see he should be in a hospital. As much as I can see the extent of the damage, there's still not much I can do for him. Blood doesn't seem to come from his nose or ears and his speech seems fine.

"I can hear and see you just fine. I just feel tired." That's good news at least. Soaking one of the dish towels in vodka, I told him to close his eyes and grit his teeth. What I was about to do was going to hurt; a lot. Pressing the vodka, soaked towel to his head to sterilize the wound I watched and took in every detail of his reaction. From how his teeth clenched and caused the muscle in his jaw to stand out even more; how his eyebrow drew together and created dimples above his brows; how I longed to reach up and stroke them back in to place.

I still couldn't wrap my head around how I got myself in this position with Silas Maas. People always spoke about him like he was some God! I've never seen him before today; never spoke to him. I always felt we were in different worlds and that's how things should have stayed. I needed to remember that I was no one; I had to be no one.

Sarah was obsessed with him. The only reason I knew what he looked like was because Sarah has a creepy photo collection of him. She used to pay her brother to follow him around and take pictures of him up until Mikey finally put his foot down and stopped. I think he might have seen something he shouldn't because the morning he came back and told her she needed to find someone else to obsesses over; he looked as pale as a ghost and hid away in his room for a week.