C14 Fourteen

Skylar's POV

Opening the first drawer as fast as possible, I rummaged through the various things present inside but failed to find the only thing I was looking for right now.

The first aid box.

I couldn't believe searching for such an obvious thing could prove out to be so hard in such a situation--an emergency.

After what felt like hours, I finally spotted a small transparent box in one of the lower cabinets. Snatching it out, I exited the kitchen and rushed back towards Caden.

"I'm not really good at doing this. Why can't we just go to the hospital?" My hands were shaking a little as I opened the box. "I'll probably injure you more."

I might not have, now that I think about it. But I had never been in a situation like this. With a boy, injured and bleeding on my couch. Nerves were eating me up alive. What if I messed him up more than he already was right now?

"Not the hospital." He shifted a little on the couch, his hand reaching out for the first aid box. I ignored it and set it beside him, quickly opening it up. I didn't have to look at him to notice his frown. He was hurt yet he still was trying to hide it. Just looking at the wound on his arm was making me rethink the whole hospital thing.

Caden was being stubborn. Way more stubborn than I usually was.

"Okay." I nodded and unrolled a thick white bandage, trying to reassure myself more than him. I truly sucked at this; the panic brimming inside me confirmed that.

His jacket was already discarded aside. But as I sat down on the couch beside him, facing him, I heard him inhale slowly before--oh--taking off his shirt in one go.

Then I grimaced. The wound didn't look that bad, mostly grazed by the knife, but the blood was smudged everywhere. I didn't understand why my parents wanted me to pursue medicine when just the sight of too much blood made my mind go blank.

"It'll hurt, all right?" I whispered to him, furrowing my brows in concentration.

Then I took a small piece of cotton, dipped it in the antiseptic, and started to touch his wound with it.

You can do it, Sky.

"I c-can't." I pulled my trembling hand away.

Caden tipped his head back against the couch and briefly closed his eyes. His hand, once again, reached out towards me, silently asking me to hand it over to him.

I stared at him with wide eyes, then inhaled sharply. "No, no, I can do this. I'll just have to suck it up. You need help."

"It won't be much help if you faint on me."

"I won't faint on you," I told him, gritting my teeth, and softly gripping his forearm as I picked up the ball of cotton once again.

Caden didn't say anything at all. All he did was slightly hiss at the start, then he kept silent the whole way as I cleaned most of the wound. If I were in his place, I realised, I would've been bawling my eyes out.

When I was done and the wound didn't seem to be bleeding anymore, I took the large bandage and wrapped it slowly around his arm. It looked decent enough, not that messed up like before. A small shudder went through me and I pulled away from him, my hands going limp on my lap.

"Does it feel any better?" I asked him slowly, my eyes darting across his face, searching.

He didn't say anything. But his brows weren't scrunched together anymore and I guessed I hadn't been all too bad with the patching up. His hair fell over his forehead, drenched in sweat, as I stared at him. He even had his eyes closed, and for once I wished to see those green eyes. I wanted him to tell me he was fine.

"What was...all that, Caden?" I asked him in a whisper.

He was hurt. There was a knife wound on his arm and bruises on his stomach. And he was acting like this was normal. Getting hurt in fights was normal for him. What had been going on between that blond boy and him? Was he really Caden's brother?

"Not right now." I broke out of my thoughts when I heard the sheer exhaustion in his voice. "I've got no energy left to explain this right now."

I stared at him for a few more seconds before shaking my head out of the thousand questions still circling in my head. This all was way too fucked up to even think about.

"You can stay here," I told him, closing the first aid box and picking up the bloodied wash towel and cotton balls. "I don't think you're in a state of going back to your place right now. You're not even in the state of standing up."

Once I had placed back the box to its former place, I looked back at Caden.

He didn't give any response, so I took that as a yes. I didn't want to let him stay here. Not after tonight and what I had seen him doing on those school grounds. But what kind of person would I be if I told him to leave?

With a heavy sigh, I went inside my parent's room and picked out some clothes from Dad's closet. Somehow, Chicken had already found her way towards me as I went back to the lounge where Caden was.

"You can take a shower upstairs if you want," I told him and he finally opened his eyes, his gaze trailing down to the fresh clothes in my hands. "And here are some clothes."

He didn't respond for a few seconds, frowning at me, and I was almost about to ask him if there was something wrong. Was his arm hurting too much?

"I can lend you some painkillers." My eyes widened a little. Why hadn't I thought of it before? I held up a finger. "Wait a sec."

Caden was still frowning at me oddly by the time he had managed to chug down the pills I handed him along with a glass of water.

Before I could've said anything more, he slowly took the clothes from my outstretched hands. When he stood up right in front of me, my breath hitched involuntarily in my throat and I took a small step back.

Then he sidestepped me and my gaze flew to his leather jacket sprawled at one corner of the couch. Chicken purred around my feet and I saw him disappearing upstairs before I looked back at his jacket.

The same jacket with a gun inside.

•••••

After about half an hour sitting there on the couch and staring at Caden's black jacket, as if some poisonous snake would jump out of it any second, I finally gave up. I had been thinking for a while about all of this, almost having a burnout in the process.

Who was Blake? Why had Caden been threatening that girl in the first place? He'd told me he wasn't going to be coming at the homecoming. But he had. Was that blond guy related to whatever gang Caden had told me about?

I wish I knew something. I hated when I didn't know anything.

When I just couldn't stand the uneasiness bristling inside me, I stood up from the couch and started heading upstairs to check up on him. It'd been a while since he left for a shower. Since the nearest room within the hallway was my own, I opened my bedroom door and went inside.

I was a bit surprised when I saw Caden lying on my bed, passed out from exhaustion, with his uninjured arm draped over his face. His hair was damp, pushed away from his forehead but still tousled. Even though he was wearing the sweatpants I gave him, he wasn't exactly wearing a shirt.

And since I wasn't really cleaning up his wounds anymore, I couldn't help but let my gaze trail over his perfectly toned body, at the lean muscles. A hot guy like Caden Miller was in my house, inside my bedroom actually, and I wasn't even supposed to drool over him?

Once again, I had to shake my head out of it. This wasn't normal. Things were different. He was hurt.

Because of his own brother.

I slowly went towards him, picked up the comforter, and slid it over him.

Gangs and guns and enemies. East gang.

I slipped outside from my room once I had switched off the lights, and closed the door behind me. Then I leaned back against the nearest wall and rubbed my entire face with both of my hands.

Sooner or later, he'd have to tell me.