"Hold up," I snapped, registering his earlier words. "What do you mean she was attacked?"
I looked down at the tiny little female under my arm.
Who could attack her?
She was so small.
And frail.
"What happened to her?" I heard myself ask, attention back to the principal.
"I think I'm going to fall," she croaked out, distracting me from my thoughts. Reaching up, she clutched my forearm with her small hand and sighed. "Everything's spinning."
"I won't let you fall," I automatically replied in a soothing tone. "It's okay." I felt her slip and pulled her upright, holding onto the tiny thing for all I was worth. "I've got you," I coaxed, tightening my arm around her. "You're good."
"Look, sit down with her," Mr. Twomey ordered, gesturing to the bench that lined the wall outside of his office. "I'll go and find a compress or something."
"You're leaving me with her?" I demanded, mouth hanging open. "Alone?"
The principal didn’t answer me.
Of course he didn’t, the fucking coward, because he was already miles down the corridor, desperate to get away from the type of responsibility he was paid to stand over.
"Spineless eejit," I growled under my breath.
Frustrated, I walked us over to the wooden bench.
Dropping her schoolbag on the floor, I carefully lowered our bodies onto the bench until we were sitting side by side.
I kept my arm wrapped around her bony little shoulders, not daring to leave her side for fear of her falling.
"This is just great," I tutted, sulking. "Fucking wonderful."
"You feel so warm," she whispered and I felt her cheek nuzzle against my bare chest. "Like a hot water bottle."
"Okay, you really need to keep your eyes open," I told her, panicked by her words.
Knees bouncing nervously, I turned her in my arms and caught hold of her face between my hands. "Hey," I coaxed, giving her face a little shake with both hands. "
“Hey…girl?" I added lamely because I didn’t even know her name. I'd almost killed the girl and I didn’t know her fucking name. "Open your eyes."
She didn’t.
"Hey – hey!" I said louder now. "Look at me." I shook her head. "Look at my face."
This time she did.
She opened her eyes and fuck me, I unintentionally sucked in a sharp breath.
Jesus, this girl was beautiful.
I'd noticed it earlier of course, she had a striking look about her, but now, seeing her up close like this and being able to count the freckles on her face – eleven by the way – it was hitting home just how striking she was.
Her blue eyes were big and round and fucking beautiful, with small hues of yellow dotting through them, rimmed with thick, long lashes.
I wasn’t even sure I'd ever seen that shade of blue before. It certainly didn’t shake anything up in the memory bank.
Hands down, she possessed the most gorgeous pair of eyes I'd seen in my life.
She had long, elbow-length, dark brown hair that was thick and curled at the ends.
And hidden behind the mountain of hair was a small, heart shaped face, smooth, clear skin, and a tiny dimple in her chin.
Perfect shaped, dark eyebrows that arched above those killer eyes of hers. A tiny button nose, high cheekbones, and these puffy, swollen lips.
Lips that were a natural rosy red color and kind of looked like she had been sucking on an ice pop or something – which I knew she hadn't because I'd spent the last half hour trying to keep her awake.
"Hi," she breathed.
I blew out a relieved breath. "Hi."
"That's really your face?" she asked, eyes drooping, as she studied me with a vacant expression. "It's so pretty."
"Uh, thanks?" I offered uncomfortably, still cupping her cheeks in my hands. "It's the only one I have."
"I like it," she whispered, "it's a good face," just before closing her eyes again, sagging forward.
"No, no, no," I coaxed, jolting her roughly. "Stay with me!"
Moaning, she blinked awake again.
"Good job," I praised with a heavy exhale. "Now stay awake."
"Who are you?" she croaked out, depending entirely on my hands to keep her head upright.
"I'm Johnny," I told her, biting back a smirk. "Who are you?"
"Shannon," she whispered. Her eyelids drooped a little but quickly sprung back open when I nudged her cheeks. "Like the river," she added with a small sigh.
I chuckled at her response.
"Well, Shannon like the river," I said brightly, desperate to keep her focused and talking. "Your parents are on the way. They're probably going to take you to the hospital for a check-up."
"Johnny," she groaned and then winced. "Johnny. Johnny. Johnny. This is bad…"
"What?" I urged. "What's bad?"
"My dad," she whispered.
I frowned. "Your dad?"
"Can you save me?"
I frowned. "Do you need me to save you?"
"Mmm-hmm," she mumbled sleepily. "Rub my hair."
I balked at her request. "You want me to rub your hair?"
She nodded and sagged forward. "It hurts."
Shifting closer, I adjusted her body so that her head lolled against my shoulder, and while cupping her face with one hand, I used the other to stroke her hair. It was an awkward position, but I managed.
Jesus, what the fuck was I doing?
I shook my head to myself, feeling like an eejit, but continued to do what she asked anyway.
It was going well – right up until she face-planted on my dick.
Jerking at the insanely intimate contact, not to mention the sudden jolt of awareness in my dick and the scorching pain in my groin, I attempted to move her face from my crotch, but she groaned loudly in resistance.
And then she pulled her legs up on the bench and settled herself down for a nice, old kip on my cock.
Fuck my life.
Holding my hands up in the air and far away from her body, because I needed a sexual harassment accusation like I needed a hole in the head, I looked around for someone to help me, but no one came.
The hallways were conveniently void of adults.
Fuck this school.
I thought about making a run for it, but I could hardly throw her off me.
Yeah, because breaking her head wasn’t fucking bad enough.
So, I just sat there with her head in my lap and her cheek nuzzling my dick and prayed to god to give me the strength to ignore the feelings growing inside of me and not get an erection.
Other than the obvious reason of horrendous timing, my cock was broken.
Well, it wasn’t so much my cock being broken as it was the surrounding area, but getting hard could result in me passing out right alongside her.
But then she whimpered and the sound brought back the worry and concern, disaster averted.
Like it had a mind of its own, my hand moved to her face.
"You're okay," I coaxed, battling down my anxiety, the urge to nurture this girl both a new and equally terrifying feeling for me. "Shh, you're okay."
Brushing her hair back off her cheek, I tucked the dark brown tendrils behind her ear and then I resumed stroking her sore head.
There was an impressive lump forming on her scalp where the ball made contact, so I stroked the area with my fingertips, using a featherlight touch. "Is this okay?"
"Mmm," she breathed. "It's…good."
"Good," I mumbled, relieved, and continued with the stroking.
A faint scar caught my eye where her temple met her hairline.
Without thinking about what I was doing, I trailed a finger over the inch-long indent of skin and asked, "What happened here?"
"Hmm?"
"Here." I trailed my finger over the old mark. "What's this from?"
"My dad," she replied, breathing out a heavy sigh.
My hand stilled as my brain registered her fucked up answer. "Come again?"
When she didn’t respond, I used my other hand to gently shake her shoulder. "Shannon?"
"Hmm?"
I tapped the old scar with my fingertip and said, "Are you telling me that your dad did this to you?" I tried to keep my tone calm, but it was a challenge with the sudden urge to maim and kill bubbling up inside.
"No, no, no," she whispered.
"So, your dad didn’t do this?" I asked for confirmation. "He definitely didn’t?"
"Of course not," she mumbled.
Thank fuck for that.
I released the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
"Jimmy?"
"It's Johnny."
"Oh. Johnny?"
"Yeah?"