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“Bloody fucking hell,” Adam groans as he weakly tries to bat my hand away. Failing miserably, he lets his arm drop to the mattress from the exertion.
“Adam, this isn’t sanitary. I need to look at it.” Reassuringly, I put my hand over his and rub my thumb in small circles.
Drained, he doesn’t open his eyes but nods his consent. His head thumps back against the wall, he’s trusting me while he’s at his most vulnerable. I grasp a corner of the bandage again and peel it back as gently as I can manage. The tape is already curling at the edges so it comes off easily. The center of the gauze, however, is stuck to the wound.
“Just yank it,” Adam grunts, gritting his teeth together. I look up at his face to be sure that he’s serious. His eyes are squeezed shut and his jaw muscles are twitching. Bracing one hand on the mattress, I squeeze my own eyes closed and jerk on the gauze, hard.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuckkkk!” Adam screams in agony and hunches over the edge of the mattress, dry heaving from the pain. “Ughhhhh,” he moans, pressing his sweaty face into his pillow when the sensation finally passes.
“I’m sorry!” I cry. “Adam, please, stay on your back, you’re still bleeding.” I help him roll off his side and inspect the stab wound as he gasps in distress. “Jesus, Adam.” The puncture is long, almost four inches, but thankfully not very deep and only seeping a small amount of blood. It’s more of a slice than a stab and it didn’t go through all the layers of skin. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until I exhale in relief. Thank god I spent the last year volunteering at the local clinic in Shepherd’s Bush or else I’d have passed out by now.
Toughen up Ellie. You can do this, you’re going to be a nurse someday.
“Where’s the gauze?” I ask lightly, trying to keep my voice calm and reassuring even though inside I feel like screaming.
Adam can’t respond to my question, his entire body is now being wracked with small tremors and his teeth are chattering loudly. I place my hand on his forehead, no fever, which is surprising.
“Dax!” I call out, suddenly overwhelmed and truly afraid for Adam.
“Yeah,” he appears in the doorway only a moment later.
“I need help. I don’t know why he’s shivering.” I feel helpless, the tears I had held back for Adam’s sake are now coursing freely down my cheeks.
Dax steps into the room and crouches next to the bed. “He was doing that yesterday when I cleaned the wound. It’s a reaction to the pain or the blood loss, I think.”
“Okay,” I respond uncertainly, trusting that Dax knows what he’s talking about. It takes all of my strength, but I’m able to calm myself down some now that I know Adam’s not having a seizure or some sort of fever-induced convulsions. I swallow and steel myself against the nerves that are bubbling up in my gut. “Well, where are the bandages? I need to cover this back up.”
Dax hands me a plastic sack from the other side of the tiny space. “There’s antiseptic ointment in there too,” he says before he gets up and thankfully leaves me alone to play nursemaid.
I patch Adam up the best I know how, which isn’t much. He remains either asleep or unconscious throughout, I’m not sure which, while I tend to him. I allow myself the pleasure of pressing a small kiss to Adam’s damp forehead before I stand up and join Dax in the main room of the flat.
Free from having to pretend to be unaffected under Adam’s gaze, my entire body trembles and I crumple to the floor. It looks cleaner down here than on that dreadful couch, and that doesn’t say much. As I sit, I put my head in my hands and cry. Dax sits next to me and waits patiently for my breakdown to end.
I wipe the tears from my face and stare at the hideous brown carpet. “So, are you going to tell me what happened?” I ask, flicking a random empty Hobnob’s wrapper across the room.
Dax sighs heavily, as if the weight of the world is resting on his massive shoulders. “He doesn’t want me to, but yeah, I will.”
That gets my attention. I lift my head to look at Dax as he explains how his best friend got a four-inch stab wound and about a dozen deep bruises.
“Adam’s brother, Danny…”
“Adam has a brother?” I interrupt.
“Yes, three years older,” Dax huffs as he shoots me an impatient look.
“Sorry, go on,” I mumble, mortified by my outburst. I jam my ragged thumbnail into my mouth and start gnawing on it furiously.
“Right. Anyway, Danny’s a prick and a criminal. He runs drugs around here. In fact, he’s the second in command for one of the biggest dealers in the borough. Been doing it for years.”
My eyes must be popping out of my head because Dax pats my leg and gives me a sad laugh.
“You must know that this isn’t the nicest area in London, Ellie.” Feeling naïve, I purse my lips and nod, pretending that this news doesn’t shock me. “So after the whole… ummmm, confrontation with Murray and Mason, he asked Danny for protection. For you.”
My mouth falls open in shock. “Protection? What does that mean?”
Dax scrunches his brow in confusion and looks at me like I’m stupid. “You think that those two would have left you alone after what happened that day? Haven’t you wondered why they didn’t come after you again? Or bothered you in school? No one ever gets the better of those two, and they’re not likely to forget it. They know they won’t win against me and Adam, but you… they’d take you down in an instant just to hurt us or prove that we didn’t stop him.”
“I don’t understand,” I admit, my voice no louder than a whisper.
