Over the Edge

Ch.9-Last Chances

~Rhys~

I watched Emma collapse and I froze. The guys were freaking out like a bunch of idiots. What the hell was I supposed to do when someone spontaneously passed out? I had only meant to mess with her, to get her off my case once and for all. I didn’t think . . .

Shit.

“It wasn’t me, I swear it!” one of the nimrods shouted out. “We weren’t gonna do anything, really!”

I cursed under my breath, rapidly, not having a single clue what to do.

“What in the hell is going on here?”

I winced at Rico’s loud voice coming from the open apartment door. He was staring at the scene with wide, unbelieving eyes. He found me and they laced with disappointment.

“All of you get the fuck out of here!” he shouted, and the group fell over themselves trying to flee. I stayed, knowing he didn’t mean me. Knowing he wanted me to stay and most likely chew my ass out, give me another lecture on how wayward I had become.

Silence. Nothing but the punctuated gasps coming from Emma’s huddled form. Rico’s eyes were blazing. I knew he was pissed off. Whenever he was at the end of his rope with anger he got quiet.

“Who is that?” he asked in dangerous calmness, nodding toward Emma.

“Emmalyn Hall,” I replied quietly.

“The partner you supposedly hate so much?”

“That’s the one.”

“Hm.” He slammed his apartment door closed. “What is she doing here?”

“She followed me from school. Wanted to know my life.”

“So you took her here? When you knew the boys would be over?”

“Yep.”

“You’re an asshole, Rhys, you know that?”

I was beginning to.

Rico crept toward Emma’s shuddering form on the floor. He knelt by her, exuding a gentleness and placidity I had seen only once, when I had first met him. It had been raining and I was hiding in the crappy playground across the street, just generally hating the world and my father and everything. He’d taken me in and helped me out, gave me a place to stay, and taken me back home in the morning when I was calmed down. What really hurt was the fact that my father hadn’t even been worried. He hadn’t called the police or anything. He’d shaken his head at me, whipped me once as punishment, and gone back to his corporate wonderland. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” Rico soothed, trying to extricate her from the tight ball she was curled into. I stood by feeling incredibly useless, the worst feeling of guilt nagging through me. Emma whimpered and Rico pulled back his hand. It was coated with crimson. “Shit,” he swore. “Rhys, go get the first aid kit.”

Finally being put to use, I spun on my heel and hurried into the kitchen. I swung open the cabinet and retrieved the white box, rushing back into the living room. Rico had managed to get Emma on the couch, sprawled out. Her face was white as a sheet and I could see the sticky red substance globbed in her hair. I swallowed hard. Rico tended to her for the next ten minutes or so, without words. I grabbed a seat in the chair across from him.

When he finished he sat back, swiping his arm across his forehead. Emma was still unconscious, but all the blood was gone. “You’re lucky it wasn’t a worse cut, that she doesn’t need stitches,” he spoke up. “A lot of people would have your ass if that was the case.”