First Punch ➟ Kellic

F O R T Y T H R E E

For the next few days Lucas stays in bed, staring at the wall or ceiling most of the time. Jake had told Mateo everything after we got back from breakfast, and we've all been worriedly trying to brighten his mood ever since. It doesn't seem to work. Lucas does slowly bounce back though. At first it's just little things like him actually paying attention to the TV. This progresses into the occasional snarky comment, but we were all happy about it nonetheless. Then he starts going outside to smoke with Mateo. Finally, after over a week, he starts pestering the guys about when they're gonna get out of this crusty motel. Everyone immediately perks up, Jake and Mateo starting to get the real Lucas back.

"So are we just moving in now?" he sarcastically complains, digging through his bag for something to sleep in.

"We'll...uh..." Jake trails off, looking at me questioningly.

We're already in bed and I take his hand under the covers, not wanting to make Lucas uncomfortable. I shrug, not having any advice. I don't communicate with the Triad anymore; knowing Carter though, they won't give up.

"We'll leave soon," Jake finishes, looking slightly concerned.

"We should probably leave, leave...like out of town," I whisper to him, knowing I'll never feel safe here.

He looks deeply into my eyes for a second, nodding slightly. "Okay," he says.

Jake's attention turns to my shoulder, pulling the collar of my shirt down past it. He brushes his fingers across my wound lightly, always checking up on me. I'm mostly healed now. Jake had taken my stitches out, and it honestly didn't even hurt that badly. I have almost all of my mobility back, but he still constantly worries about me.

"I'm fine," I whisper, giving him a reassuring look. He nods, not appearing all that convinced, so I lean in and kiss him, loving the fact that we don't have to hide anymore.

Lucas ignores us as he gets into bed, everyone falling quiet for a while. I get tired as the crackling of the TV fills the air, not a single one of us paying any attention to it. I lay my head on Jake's chest, gradually drifting off in the comfort of his calming presence.

I wake up again to the room pitch black. I feel a hand under my shirt, their fingers delicately trailing up and down my spine, giving me goosebumps. I smile, loving the feeling of being in Jake's arms. I'm lying on my side, cuddled into him and no matter how tired I am, I still feel butterflies.

I groan slightly in response, kissing his arm or shoulder or whatever the hell I'm laying on. I snuggle in closer and Jake chuckles, kissing my forehead. His fingers continue to graze against my bare spine, a blanket of relaxation falling over me. Then everything changes. Jake sniffles slightly and I frown, concerned. I finally open my eyes, pulling back to look at him.

"What's wrong?" I ask, my voice embarrassingly hoarse.

"Nothing," he mumbles, his voice strained and he sniffles again. Even in the dark, I can see the tears in his eyes and get even more worried. Jake rarely cries, so I'm kind of scared about what's up.

"Why are you crying?" I whisper, lifting a hand to his cheek and brushing away a fresh tear.

Jake sighs, dropping the eye contact. He seems deep in thought for a moment, as if trying to decide what to say or whether to say anything at all.

"I...I just really miss my mom," he finally spills, his voice cracking.

My already concerned expression immediately deepens, not exactly sure how to help him. I miss having parents too, but it's more the idea of parents than the actual people themselves because, honestly, I'm pretty sure that I'm better off without mine.