Mr. Lawson's Assistant

Chapter 39

"You can use this room, it's the one they always use for guests." Kenya showed me to a room on the first floor of the Lawson's house, watching me sympathetically as I stumbled into the room behind her. She set the small stack of clothes she was carrying on the bed, and gestured to the adjoining bathroom. "Help yourself to whatever is in the bathroom, and the towels are under the sink."
I blinked at how tired I suddenly was, nodding at Kenya when she looked to me to make sure I'd heard her. Kenya smiled, squeezing my shoulder, before she rubbed my cheek once, then left me alone in the room.
I let out a shaky breath, staring at the bathroom door in front of me and letting my eyes fall out of focus.
Slowly, I blinked to clear my vision and stepped up to the bathroom door, pushing it open and trudging into the bathroom. It was half the size of the bedroom, so it was huge.
I pulled off my torn, dusty dress, wincing as my wrists flexed against the bandages the medic had wrapped around my cuts. Once my clothes were removed, I threw away the old bandages, and observed the new bruises that were forming on the edges of my face. Shaking my head, I turned on the water and stepped into the shower.
The water felt divine on my grimy skin. Inhaling the steam, I held my breath as the hot water brushed over my new cuts, and a distinct burning sensation crept over my body.
I just stood there, my chest against the stream of water, not wanting to move. It was safe and warm here. I didn't have to answer questions, or cut myself free from zip ties, I could just stand here and be quiet.
My head was spinning, but I fought it. I couldn't hold the emotions at bay well enough, because tears rolled down my face, invisible with the streams of water that washed over me.
I'm alive and I'm safe. Why am I crying!?
I realized that I needed to wash my hair and eventually get out of the shower, so I forced myself into motion, discarding my surge of emotion.
Out of the shower, I found towels under the sink, and carefully dried myself off around the cuts on my arms and legs. Rewrapping the wounds with the extra bandages that Will had sent with me, I slipped into the sweatpants and hoodie that Kenya had brought for me. Then, I crawled onto the bed and under the covers.
I heard someone enter the house a few minutes after a closed my eyes, but I didn't have the strength to get up. Instead, I just buried my face in the pillows and closed my eyes.
*
I woke later that night, feeling someone rubbing my shoulder gently. Peeling my eyes open, I groaned against the stiff way that my muscles felt on every side of my body.
"Hey, you hungry?" David paused rubbing my shoulder and waited for me to orient myself.
Stretching my arms, I winced when the skin tightened around my road burn, pulling against the new scar tissue that had been forming. David watched with a sober expression, and as I turned onto my side to face him, he gave me a small smile.
"You haven't woken me up that nicely since I was ten." I murmured, managing a small smile of my own.
David smirked, "Yeah, well don't get used to it." I blinked away the sleep in my eyes. "Greyson made dinner, if you want to come eat something..."
I nodded, feeling the emptiness in my stomach. In the past three days all I'd had was a half a sandwich.
Rolling over on the bed as David stood back up, I threw my legs over the side of the bed and rubbed my face. I pulled my hand away slowly from my face, grimacing. I'd forgotten about my bruises. Catching David's stare, I raised my eyebrows.
"That bad, huh?" I asked him. By the look on his face, I must have looked terrible.
He forced a smile, "You look like you just took a semi head-on." David sucked a breath through his teeth to empathize his point.
I gave a short laugh, ignoring the tightness in my facial muscles. Pushing myself off the bed, I yawned and glanced in the mirror on the wall beside the bed. The brown-purple bruises on the edges of my left and right cheeks gave me pause, but only for a second. Blinking, I switched my attention to my hair. It was tangled and knotty from falling asleep with it being wet, so I pulled it back out of my face and searched for a hair tie.  Realizing I didn't have any, I dropped my arm in defeat. David opened the door to the hallway and I followed him out of the room. Kenya and Greyson were sitting on the couch watching something on the TV, but when I walked in Kenya jumped up from her seat and moved around the couch to come hug me.
"How are you feeling?" She stepped back, scanning my face.
I shrugged, forcing another small smile. "Like I got run over by a truck." I answered, hearing David snort behind me. Greyson chuckled as he stood, coming around the couch as well. I glanced at him and Kenya smiled, heading towards the kitchen.
Greyson's blue eyes flickered towards David as he said, "I hope you slept well?" And David squeezed my shoulder, following Kenya into the kitchen.
"I did, thank you-" I started, and he waved me silent.
"You have nothing to thank me for. If it hadn't been for me you never would have gone through all this." He shook his head, running a hand through his tousled blonde hair. It was the first time I hadn't seen him in mint condition. He was wearing a plain navy t-shirt, and jeans, and as I'd already noticed, his hair was slightly a mess.
"We're not placing blame." I frowned, shaking my head once. That simole movement sent a jolt through my skull and I stiffened. Greyson noticed my wince, and offered a sympathetic smile. "David said you made dinner?" I asked, anxious to switch the topic of conversation.
"I did, Damon's in the kitchen eating some of it right now." Greyson smiled.
Kenya appeared in the kitchen doorway at that moment and asked Greyson if he could resume their show. I headed off into the kitchen, trying to keep my stomach from growling, as Kenya and Mr. Lawson settled back onto the couch.
When I walked into the kitchen, Damon was scooping homemade spaghetti onto two plates, his back to me.
"Two plates?" I smirked, and he turned around quickly. His green eyes lighting slightly when they found me, and a smile played at the edge of his lips. But it disappeared quickly when his eyes scanned my face.
"What? Does my face look that terrible?" I rolled my eyes, coming around the island to get my own plate.
Damon moved in front of me to block my path to the plates, "I would avoid the mirror for a few days." He smirked, holding out one of the plates to me. I took the food with more force than necessary, and shuffled over to sit at the island bar. Starting into the spaghetti, I reveled in the sweet taste of food as my stomach growled impatiently.
Damon pulled two glasses from the cubbard and filled them with water, offering one to me. I mumbled a thank you, and he nodded, sipping his own water.
"How long did I sleep?"
Damon raised his eyebrows and glanced at his watch. "Five hours." He set his glass into the sink, and leaned back against the opposite counter. "Hungry?" He asked me, amusement settling on his face when he saw the I was devouring the plate of spaghetti. 
I shot him a sharp look, "I haven't had food for three days." I told him, "Get me some more, would you?" I asked him, as he picked up his own plate. He took my plate, but instead of scooping more food, he handed me his plate. I gave him a quizzical frown, and he waved the plate to me.
"I lost my appetite."
"Because I told you I haven't had any food for three days?" I crossed my arms. His eyes flickered up to mine, and he barely nodded. I was surprised that I'd been right. I was expecting him to retort with a smart comment. "I'm fine," I sighed, searching his face.
His expression darkened, "You could have died."
"But I didn't."
Damon's eyes flashed at my words, but before he could say anything in response I cut him off.
"Damon," I exhaled, watching him focus his gaze on mine, "Stop feeling sorry for me, ok? You wish it wouldn't have happened, so do I. But it did, and there's nothing you can do about it." I pursed my lips, holding his gaze. Damon worked his jaw, staring at me with all the intensity of a wildfire. "Enough people are going to give me pity, alright?" I felt a lump forming in the back of my throat, but I pushed it away.
Damon stared at me for a moment, before he slowly nodded, inhaling, and turning back to start putting the food away.
When I'd eaten and helped Damon put the rest of the food away, we joined Greyson, David and Kenya out in the living room. I settled myself beside David, and Damon sat down beside me.
Greyson started flipping through the channels as we settled onto the couch, "What do you guys want to watch?" He asked, glancing over at the couch full of people. Everyone looked at everyone else, and shrugged. "Calm down, I can't listen to so many opinions at once." Greyson smirked at the TV. I laughed quietly and pointed at the menu.
"Blue Bloods is a good one."
David and Kenya agreed with me, so Greyson selected the show and we all sat back to watch.
Midway through the episode, a man jumped out from behind a building, and started firing a gun at the main characters, and though I'd known it was going to happen, I flinched. David glanced over, but I kept my eyes glued to the screen. The flashback from earlier today ran through my mind, with every shot the rang out on the screen.
I felt Damon's eyes on me, but I ignored him and stood up. "I'll be right back." I headed down the hallway towards the bedroom, checking every door I passed to find a bathroom. Rushing into the first bathroom I came across, I clutched my stomach and barely made it to the toilet before I threw up. Bending over the bowl, I hacked and coughed, tears coming to my eyes as I emptied the contents of my stomach. I tried to hold my hair back, but it kept slipping, and I started to choke, using the counter as a support beside me.
Suddenly, someone was behind me, and they gathered my hair up behind my neck, letting me use my other hand to steady myself. Coughing, I wiped my eyes, slowly kneeling down because my legs were shaking.
"You alright?" Damon asked quietly behind me, and I closed my eyes before I nodded.
"It's probably just because of the food," I said weakly, laying my head against the counter beside me.
I felt Damon fiddling with my hair, until he took his hand away and my hair stayed up.
"Where'd you get a hair tie?" I murmured, leaning my back against the counter and opening my eyes. I watched Damon crouch beside me and cross his arms over his knees, staring at the bathroom wall in front of us.
"I had a sister," Damon began, not moving his eyes away from the tile, as a faint smile washed over his face. "She died in a car accident about a year ago."
My heart lurched. Damon hadn't ever told me about his family, and just hearing the strain in his voice made my chest ache for him.
"I'm sorry..."
He shook his head, his black hair touseling against the counter. From where I sat, I could see a small shine come into his eyes, but he blinked it away quickly.
"What was she like?" I murmured, inhaling quietly and trying to ignore my stomach's churning.
Damon chuckled. "She was sassy," his eyes wandered over the wall, "and she was a pain in the butt sometimes."
I smiled gently, fixing my gaze on him, momentarily forgetting that I felt sick.
"A lot like you actually," He smirked, his eyes flicking in my direction. "Her name was Allison." Damon turned his head to face me, the pain evident in his eyes. "She always wore red lipstick and her favorite leather jacket. When we'd go to parties she made me carry hair ties around in my pocket for her, because hers always broke. After she died, I never really stopped carrying them."