Idle (The Seven Deadly #4)

He roughly shoved me with a boot and I practically crawled to the bathroom, careful not to smear blood on the walls. The last thing I wanted was to scare the girls when they came home later, from wherever they were with my mom. When I got inside, I shut the door and examined my face.

It was bleeding profusely, but from what I’d discovered, head wounds always bled a little more freely. I tied my hair back and bent to the sink, turning on the water, and letting cold water run over the side of my head. The water ran red and red and red and red. The adrenalin was starting to wear off and my hands shook even harder as it left. Keeping my head under the water, I dug around the floor for a towel. When I found one, I brought it up and pressed as hard as I could to the cut, then brought it away from my head so I could see how deep it was. It was pretty deep. I pressed the hand towel back to my head then rummaged through the medicine cabinet for some old butterfly stitches or something but couldn’t find any.

“Damn it,” I whispered.

I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and texted Ansen. I waited a few minutes and texted again. He didn’t answer. I put my ear to the door, listening for movement from Sterling. It was dead quiet, so I opened the bathroom door and waited. Nothing. He wasn’t in the living room, and I didn’t hear him in the kitchen. Quickly, I headed for the front door and slipped out, huffing it as best I could to my Scout.

Once inside, I had a tough time getting the key into the ignition but when it landed, I turned that sucker and sped out of there, heading straight for the only grocery store in town and praying I wouldn’t somehow run into Salinger.

The market looked dead as a doornail since it was due to close in ten minutes. As much as I hated the thought of going in, I knew driving to the next town was my only option and since it was an over an hour away, I also knew I couldn’t afford the gas money.

Just go, Lily.

I opened the door as my phone rang. It was Ansen. Finally.

“Ansen,” I answered.

“What’s up, Lily?”

“Sterling clocked me good. Need butterfly stitches.”

“Fuck,” he answered, sighing into the phone. “At home still?”

“No, didn’t have anything. I’m up at the market.”

“Sit tight, Katie and I’ll be right there.”

“Okay, thanks, man.”

We hung up and I got out, shutting the door behind me, not bothering to lock it. I sort of sprinted for the doors, but the bounce hurt, so I stopped. Please God, please God, please God. Don’t let him see me. It was a small market, but I could hear a group of people in the back right of the store, a small radio playing. He’s probably back there, I thought, which helped ease me a little since the stuff I needed was in the front left.

I grabbed the generic brand butterfly stitches, a bottle of peroxide, some gauze, and medical tape, racing as fast as I could without hurting myself back to the front, but when I rounded the aisle, there he was. He leaned against a display near the only open register talking to Danny Marks.

My stomach dropped to the floor, a frog built up in my throat as I approached.

“Holy shit, Lily, what happened to you?” Danny asked.

As if in slow motion, Salinger stood from his slack position and turned toward me, but I couldn’t meet his eyes, too embarrassed, humiliated in front of him for the second time that day. I tossed everything onto to the belt.

“What’s up, guys?” I attempted at casual.

“Fuck,” Danny sang out. I felt my face heat up to impossible temperatures.

“Lily,” Salinger whispered. As if I couldn’t help myself, my face lifted toward his, but I didn’t answer him. “D-did Sterling do that?”

I tried to shrug it off, but lifting my shoulder made my back and throat burn.

“That guy is such a prick,” Danny chimed in, ringing up my stuff. I faced him, unable to look on Salinger any more.

He stared a hole into the side of my face, though, but I refused, no, couldn’t look at him. I handed Danny a wad of cash from my bag once he’d totaled it all up. Twelve dollars gone. The market doors opened and in walked Katie and Ansen. They made a beeline toward us.

“Let me see,” Ansen said.

I took a deep breath and dropped the rag that was almost soaked through by that point. Judging by everyone’s winces, it definitely looked as bad as I thought it did. I placed the cloth back and grabbed the plastic bag full of my stuff.

“Come on, Ansen,” I whispered. “You’ll have to help me this time.”

“Sorry about that, Lily,” Danny called after me.

I half turned and mumbled a thank you, then caught Salinger staring me down, his face white as a sheet.

“Well, I’ll never see that guy again,” I said out loud when we’d exited the doors.

“Who, Danny?” Ansen asked.

“Are you mental?” I asked him. Katie rolled her eyes. “Salinger.”

“Oh, yeah. I told you, though.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “you were right.”

When we reached my Scout, Ansen opened my door for me and I sat in the driver’s seat as he played doctor. I can’t count the number of times Ansen had patched me up.

“Uh-oh, mister man himself,” Katie said, facing the store.

“What?” I asked, trying to see over Ansen’s shoulders.

“Stop moving, dumb ass,” he said.

“Sorry,” I said.

Salinger came into view over Ansen’s shoulder and I nearly gasped.

“Did that hurt?” Ansen asked.

“No,” I whispered to Ansen. “Did I forget something?” I asked Salinger.

“No,” he said. “I don’t know why I’m out here, to be honest. Just wanted to see how you were.”

Katie’s mouth opened slightly and she fought a smile. She stood behind him a little and looked at me, before winking, making my cheeks heat up.

“I’m okay,” I began, but he narrowed his brows. “I mean, I-I’ll be okay.”

Ansen stood up, unscrewing the cap to the peroxide. “Batten the hatches, buttercup,” he braced me. I gritted my teeth and prepped for the onslaught over my temple. He poured the liquid and I could feel it running in rivulets down the side of my face. I looked down and saw blood and foundation pooling at my feet.

Salinger brought his hands to his hair.

“Looks bad?” I asked.

Katie’s faced screwed up in mock pain. “It doesn’t look good, babe. Worse than usual. What did you say to him?”

“I just existed, Katie,” I explained away for the hundredth time. It was never Sterling’s fault. Ever. It didn’t matter who asked in my stupid town.

When Ansen was done, he taped some gauze over it to keep it clean, using the bottom of his shirt to clean off my face. I bit my tongue to keep from crying out when he brushed over a bruise.

“You can stay at my house for a few days until he cools off,” Ansen offered, but I could tell that made Katie uneasy.

Ansen and I had been best friends since we were three years old, creek-water babies. He was a brother to me. Not literally, but it felt like it. I didn’t want to disrespect Katie, though, so I said no.

“I’ve got a couch,” Salinger put out there.

“No, it’s okay,” I said quickly just as Ansen spoke up.

“Yes, that’s awesome.”

“I couldn’t impose, Salinger,” I said.

Ansen looked at me like I’d grown two heads. “Why not?”

I stared daggers into him. “Because I’d feel like a burden.”

“That’s nonsense,” Salinger insisted.

“I’ll be okay, seriously. Thank you, though.”

His brows knitted together. “It’s no problem.”

But I knew that was a lie. The market was a new job to him, leaving it, even if for one night, was risky, and I wasn’t about to be party to that. Plus, he didn’t know me.

“Lily—” he began again when I didn’t respond. I interrupted him.

“Thank you so much for the offer, but I’ll be okay. I promise.”

“A-are you sure?” he asked me.

“I’m sure.” I tried to appease with a smile.

“Salinger!” we heard someone yell from the front of the store.

We all looked and saw Danny signaling for Salinger.

“I’ve gotta go. I’m so sorry. If you change your mind, text me?”

“Sure,” I said, but I knew I was never going to see that guy again, let alone text him. “Thanks.”

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