Chicago

CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Chai and Saint sat in his bedroom as they awaited Nicole to bring the items to help aid him. After the fight, Crispin had to convince Saint to go home even though he didn't want to. He was bloodied, bruised and was in no position to work. Saint was upset that he allowed Trent to disrupt his work day. Saint hated feeling useless. Not to mention, he thought it made him look weak.

Chai insisted on helping him getting home since he was walking with a limp and the slightest movement irritated the sore feelings in his body. It was safer and more convenient if she traveled with him and so she did. She wrapped his arm around her shoulder and helped him walk home. Although he was way heavier than she was, she was determined to get him home so she could aid him.

Nicole was the only one home when they arrived. Zaine was at work and Orlando was picking up a textbook he needed for his upcoming college semester. When she saw him, Nicole was worried for his safety since she knew what happened without him telling her. She was no stranger to the world of gangs and violence since her own father was a gang member and often exposed her to gangster ways. She figured she'd have a conversation with Zaine before speaking to Saint about it.

"Here's some alcohol, cotton pads, frozen veggies, and bandaids if you need them. I have to run to the store to get some groceries and Neosporin for them cuts. You okay, Saint?"

"I'm good, thank you."

"Alright, I'll be back. Thank you for walking him back here. Stay as long as you want, hun." She said to Chai before giving her an assuring smile. Chai smiled back and thanked her for her hospitality.

Nicole nodded and left his room to run to the store. Chai began soaking the cotton pads with alcohol before blotting the wet pad on his cuts. He had a total of three cuts—one on his jawline, another above  his left eyebrow and the final one being on his cheekbone. Seeing his face was nostalgic for Chai. Even though it wasn't too long ago, she remembered having similar lacerations. It made her uncomfortable, but she tried not to think about it too much.

"You don't have too much bruising, only a little bit to the side of your face," She said as she ran a fresh alcohol pad around the fresh, light yellow bruise. It was exactly where he got kicked before using his arms as a shield. She felt so bad that he had to go through that and she couldn't help but feel like it was her fault. She sighed, "after some ice packs you should be fine."

"Thanks, nurse Chai." Saint tried to lighten the mood since she seemed so depressed.

"Don't call me that." Chai said with all seriousness as she put the cap back on the alcohol bottle. She crumpled together the bandaid wrappers and closed the box, setting everything neatly together. She then got up and prepared to leave his house so she could go home to Brynn.

"Where you going?" Saint asked.

"I'm leaving, you're okay right?"

"Yeah but you're just going to leave me by myself? At least wait for Nicki to come back."

Chai furrowed a brow, "why you even want me here? I'm the reason you all busted up. If I didn't storm off, I wouldn't have seen them and none of that would've happened."

"Everything happens for a reason." Saint replied nonchalantly.

In all honesty, he was upset about it. He was upset that everyone had to see him like that—vulnerable yet vicious with murder in his eyes. It was a reflection of his past except the old Saint would've fought every single one of them until they were a punch away from death. The old Saint, the one that ran around with a bunch of ruthless teenagers without a care in the world,  the one who chanted "Woodlums" as he ran down the street with each of them by his side, beating up anyone who wasn't a fan of their gang. The old Saint that got locked up—the Saint that he didn't want anyone else to know.