Be Careful What You Wish For. 3

Be Careful What You Wish For.

Still Grace's P.O.V.
I heard a thud as Mike dropped what remained of the bottle out of his hand.
He pulled away and wiped his face with the back of his hand, he glanced at Jermaine.

"What the hell have I done...what do I do?" He choked through his sobs as he still gripped onto one of my hands.

My mind was hazy...I was still frightened but I still managed to think.

I ran into the kitchen...pausing as the piece of my pyjama top that Jermaine had ripped off lay on the floor...I forced myself past it and began to rummage through the cupboards...there had to be a first aid kit in here somewhere!

Finally to my relief, there was the green box on a shelf in the plates cupboard, I grabbed it and ran back to the brothers.

Michael was still stood there emptily staring at his sibling...

I knelt beside Jermaine and took out a roll of bandage from the first aid kit.

He was unconscious and bleeding, but it was nothing serious, the alcohol was probably more to blame.

I wrapped the bandage around his head to stem the bleeding.

I glanced at Mike, he seemed a little more relaxed...at least now he knew Jermaine was actually still alive.

"Grab his arms..." he said in a hushed tone.

"What?" I reacted to his strange order.

"Just do it! Please..." he sounded desperate so I did as he said.

Michael grabbed his legs and we began to carry him out of the house.

"What are we doing with him?!" I asked.

"I have to get him out of the house! Away from you! We're putting him in the guest house and I'm locking him in there..."

I felt like we had just committed a murder and were hiding the body...I had to keep reminding myself that Jermaine was just passed out from the alcohol and had a small cut on his head...yet here I was worrying about a man that had almost raped me five minutes ago.

We threw Jermaine onto one of the beds and left him there, locking him in as Michael said.

On the way back to the house we were both silent...stunned by what had just happened.

Michael double locked the main door as I stood and watched him, the very early morning light was appearing, turning the sky from an evil black to an inviting indigo shade.

I touched the side of my head where I had hit the coffee table when Jermaine threw me. It was swollen, the blood starting to dry, it was still painful.

"Let me clean that up for you..." I heard Mike faintly whisper.

He took my hand delicately and lead me into the kitchen where he switched on the light.

"Take a seat." He ordered.

I sat at the breakfast bar as I watched him fill a bowl with warm water and grab a roll of tissue.

He swivelled my chair around so that I was facing him, he stood above me and made me tilt my head up towards him.

He soaked some of the tissue in the warm water and began to clean my wound. The water soon turning crimson from my blood.

Again, we were both silent.

I looked at Mike's face, he had turned very pale, he was expressionless...blank...nothing was there.

Eventually he had finished tending to my wounds were he discarded the bloodied water and tissue.

He leant against the sink as I remained seated at the breakfast bar...

"Grace...what were you thinking?" He suddenly asked, a tinge of anger in his voice.