Project Apollo: Book Two ✔️

Chapter Thirteen

Apollo Diaz

"Why is Axton standing in the snow barefoot?" Alaric asked as he pointed out the windshield. "Did Emery dare him to do something stupid again? I warned him. Now look at what happened."

I snorted as I turned off the Jeep. "No one tells Axton he can't do something. He's going to prove them wrong."

But when I actually looked at the scene painted in front of us, something was wrong. Emery was holding onto Jason like Jason needed someone to lean on. Axton moved his attention to the Jeep, and when I saw the intense look in his eyes–I knew. Something happened.

Something was wrong.

I left Alaric in the Jeep to scramble. I slammed the door closed, pocketing the keys. "What the fuck happened, Ace?"

"We had a visitor." I hated it when he took on that tone. It was too serious. Too angry. He gestured in the direction of Jason and Emery. "Do you wanna tell me why the fuck Marcus decided to beat the shit out of Jason?"

While he didn't say a lot of words, my brain scrambled to understand what the fuck he was saying. "Marcus attacked..." My head turned, and it made sense why Emery was holding onto Jason. "Marcus attacked you?!"

Jason looked like he was going to throw up, and there wasn't enough light for me to assess what Marcus did to him. I was going to kill Marcus instead. "I'm going to pass out."

"It's not even a lot of blood!" Emery whined. "You're doing really great! Keep it up, Sport!"

"Nope." He touched his temple. He was bleeding. Marcus made him bleed. I watched him look at the blood. "Oh my fucking god."

I rushed toward Jason and Emery when Jason's knees gave out. I caught him, shooing Emery away to get a better grip on him. Emery let go. Jason passed out. He actually passed out. Jesus fucking Christ. I brought him to the ground on my knees, as Alaric jogged over to us.

"What...the fuck happened?!"

"Alaric!" Emery cried. "Someone named Marcus attacked Jason!"

I was too focused on Jason to listen to what the hell they were talking about anymore. I saw the blood–the soon-to-be bruises near his eye and on his jaw. "Jason." I tried to pinch his waist. The only place I could reach. Sighing, I grabbed a little bit of snow and fell on my ass to the ground. I pulled him into my lap and then pressed the snow to the side of his neck. That made him gasp and snap his eyes open. "There you are."

Jason rolled off my lap, groaning. "Fuck, it hurts."

When he tried to touch his face in search of blood, I grabbed his wrist. "Stop. You passed out at the sight of blood." I stood up, bending down to keep my hold on him. "Come on, let's get you inside. Then you can tell me what the fuck happened."

I helped him to his feet, and he had to lean on me. He swayed. "Couldn't he aim for my ribs instead? Wait. Nope." He huffed as he put a hand on the side of his lower stomach. "Nope, he got some of those, too."

I was going to fucking kill him. I would dig Marcus up from whatever rock he resided under, and fucking kill him. Jason was trying to help me, and in that process, he was hurt because of it. I kept my hold on him as I pulled him up the stairs. It was best not to tell Mama about this until I tended to him. And tend to him, I would.

Our friends followed us into my room. I sat Jason on the edge of the bed, grabbing his wrists. I wiped his fingers off with my shirt, then crouched to meet his gaze. "Don't touch your face. Hear me?" When he weakly nodded, I hummed. "Good." I gently grabbed his chin, and the sight of his injuries only heightened his anger. "I'll fucking kill him."