Settling The Score

Part 22

I'm on a fricking writing frenzy today, or something, Lol. Just a shoutout to my girl @isabella__lynn for your awesome comments! I appreciate it. And to everyone else who commented, thanks lovies!

o0o

I pulled up to Mason's house. The whole property was pitch black. I assumed no one was home, then. I vaguely recall Lucy mentioning something about the cheer team having a sleepover at Macy's tonight. 

Luckily, I knew where she kept her spare key.

I parked my Beetle as close as possible to the front door and let my shoulders slump. Not only did I now have to wake Mason, but I also had to get him up those stairs.

"Pssst, Mason," I whispered, poking his cheek with my finger, careful to avoid any tender areas. 

"Hmmm?" he mumbled.

"Wakey, wakey," I sang.
He released a groan and popped open an eye. "It feels like my head was run over by a bulldozer."

Letting out a small laugh, I hurled his arm over my shoulder and noticed for the first time, how bruised his knuckles were. At least he got in a few punches. 

This time around, Mason was a lot more cooperative and fortunately, a bit sobered up.

He leaned less of his weight on me as we made it to the front door, which I already unlocked. I took one look at their long staircase and decided there was no way in hell that we were going to attempt to climb that.

Instead, I took him to their living room, and let him fall down on the couch. I could see him gritting his teeth, trying not to curse out in pain. 

As fast as I could, I hurriedly sprinted upstairs, grabbed a blanket and a pillow from Lucy's room and the first aid kit.

When I got back to him, he was wheezing, trying to take off his sweater. 

"Wait," I said as I laid a gentle hand on his arm. "Let me help with that."

He nodded. 

Slowly, I began lifting his sweater. My breath hitched at the sight of his bare upper body, and his toned, tanned torso. He flinched as I pulled the sweater over his head, and I reluctantly pulled my eyes away from his midsection.
Instead, they got caught on his ribs, that were covered in bruises. Anger boiled in me at thought of those brutes kicking him while he was down.

I reached my hand out towards his back, but Mason grabbed it, halting it in mid-air. "Don't," he said, his green eyes scolding.

I swallowed. "You should get that looked at," I muttered. 

I turned to opened the first aid kit as Mason sank into the couch. He had a lot more bruises than I initially thought. It was a miracle the guy was even able to move, let alone walk.

I took out a few antiseptic wipes from the first aid kit and went on my haunches in front of him. 

"This might sting a little," I cautioned as I leaned over him.

He kept his eyes fixated on my face as I began by wiping the dry blood from his split lip. He flinched as I started, making my free hand instinctively grip his. I squeezed his hand, trying to comfort him. The motion managed to get a smile out of him and at that moment I was grateful he could at least still make an attempt at one.

After finishing his lip, I continued to the small scratches on his face and finally, remembered his bruised knuckles.

I quickly drew my hand away from his. "Sorry," I swallowed.