If You Fall

Three

It was the Thursday after he'd left and past nine when someone banged insistently on my door.

I was instantly panicked as I picked up my gun, because I was off the grid for a reason and people didn't just "drop by" my obscure little hidden Hansel and Gretel cabin. "Fuck," I whispered to myself, not sure what to do.

Friends was on TV behind me, Chandler berating someone, and I wished I'd at least muted it. I got up the courage to look at the little screen hooked up to the porch camera. All I could see was what looked like two figures, both in black, kind of in a pile. It made no sense until the one leaning over the first moved and I saw Reed's face on the prone figure.

I had the alarm off and was opening the door before I realized how foolish that was, because it was one of the many things he'd asked me not to do. "Could be me as bait, so don't lose your mind if that happens. I'll be fine. You keep the door shut."

Being cautious had kept us alive thus far. We knew some strange and dangerous people from our teen years. Being an orphan put you on a lot of lists, and those weren't always in good hands.

Luck was with me this time and the gorgeous Black guy trying to lift Reed said in an English accent, "I fink if you get 'is feet, love, we'll get 'im inside then." I could see Reed's black Jeep under the tree.

I was already doing so. He kicked the door shut behind us and we put Reed on the couch. There was blood on the guy's shirt, on Reed, on my hands too. 

"What happened?" I asked, my voice and hands steady though my insides quaked. I was always calm in an emergency, thank God, as it served me well.

"E's got a bit of a nick to 'is leg there, don't he," Blimey Joe said, pulling up the right leg of the black pants we'd gotten at our favorite thrift store. "Maybe a bit o' pressure?" He took off his own shirt and pressed it to the long wound, which was not exactly pumping blood out but neither was it seeping. He was really tall, and sculpted. "'E said you'd be about stitchin' 'im up?"

I shook my head once, to clear it. "Yes. I can sew it." I got up and faltered as I glanced at Reed's still face, somehow pale beneath the color. I focused and went about the business of collecting my extensive first aid kit from the kitchen. 

I deftly threaded the hooked needle and began disinfecting the wound, keeping myself distant from the whole thing, knowing I had to do this thing now in order to help him or things could get bad quickly. We were forty five minutes from a hospital. For some reason he had chosen to come to me, and I would respect that and honor it.

It didn't take long and before I was done he was waking up. I tied the last knot and allowed my hands to tremble finally. In fact my whole body had the shakes suddenly, but I knew it would pass. I wiped at some of the blood with a damp towel.

"You fink 'e'll be okay, then?" the guy asked anxiously, and I really looked at him for the first time, realizing that though he was tall and filled out he was maybe only sixteen.

"He'll be fine," I said, hopefully more than wishful thinking.

"I'm Dane," he said, holding out a hand. He realized it was still bloody and gave me a tiny wave instead.

"I'm Addy," I said, because that's who I was to Reed. I returned the wave and continued to clean the torn up leg in front of me.

Dane's face broke into an amused smile. "Guess we all know your name then, love."

I didn't have time to process that because Reed opened his eyes and took in the scene for a few moments. Then his eyes rested on me and the corners of his mouth lifted. "No roses, chérie. Just me." His voice was weak.