First Punch ➟ Kellic

F I V E

"Do you need help?" I ask, reaching out as Jacob inches along slowly.

"No," he snaps. "You've done enough."

I roll my eyes, hardly feeling bad. I never would've even noticed he existed if he hadn't come for me first. This is his own doing, not mine.

"Are you sure?" I ask, giving him a look. "You look pretty pale."

"Shut it," he spits, grabbing onto my shoulder for support anyway. His breathing is heavy and I'm surprisingly worried about him. I don't know why I care, but I guess he keeps my life interesting. School kind of sucked without him and his attempted murders.

It takes like a fucking hour he's going so damn slowly. I can't really blame him though, he has a knife in his gut for God's sake. My knife.

I'm surprised when he slows, coming to a stop in front of a tiny bungalow only a few blocks away from the home-base. I guess that makes sense that I saw him last night then, I wasn't far from here when those guys jumped me.

"We're here. Hold on a second," he says, wobbling over to the side of the house. I follow, kind of scared he'd collapse any second, but he holds a hand up to stop me.

"Lucas! Bro, get the fuck up," he says, banging on the window before sliding it open. Lucas? Which one is Lucas?

"Hello? Who...?" I hear a groggy voice say from the other side.

"Get up and get out." I'm instantly confused. Why is he forcing him out? He'd probably help him. But I guess they do all seem to have it out for the Triads. Is he protecting me?

"What? Why? And why are you at the window? What the Hell is going on?"

"I have a girl here. Just get out. I need the room."

Ugh, I think, rolling my eyes. I hate straight guys and their obsession with showing off their sex lives. Gay people have just as high of a sex drive, but are a lot less in your face about it. Maybe that's just me actually...I've met some very openly sexual gays.

"Oh shit. Alright, alright I'm going," he says. I hear a door and then Jacob looks over at me, nodding toward the window before he attempts to climb inside.

"Stop," I say, rushing over and barely touching his arm when he jerks away from me. "You're gonna cause more damage. You can't bend like that with a blade inside of you."

"Okay, smartypants. What else do you suppose I do? I can't just waltz in past Mateos mom with a knife sticking out of my stomach." Mateo? Oh God this is too many names to keep up with.

I sigh, thinking for a second before answering, "I can try and pull you in, but I can't promise it won't make it worse."

He just shrugs. "I can take it."

I'm not about to argue, I just want my blade back. So I nod and crawl through the window. It's a small room, but still bigger than mine. There's a bed in the corner and a mattress pad type thing on the floor next to it. I wonder whose is whose. Wait, why do I even care? I don't waste any more time looking around and turn back, seeing him looking at me hesitantly.

"We called a truce, didn't we?" I remind him. He gives me one last skeptical glance and I offer my hand, giving him a look saying trust me. He takes it and I make a motion for him to turn around. He doesn't budge, clearly not trusting me.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. Besides, you have my knife, how much damage can I cause? It'll be easier to slide you through on your back, and you know it."

"Fine," he sighs, spinning around with his hand still in mine. I carefully pull him through, not bothering to set him down and just scoop his legs up into my arms.