His voice quieted the group. The conversations and giggling stopped as they watched me now.
Adam sighed. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head.
Becky’s eyes were wide, but they enlarged twice the size as she watched me. She sat on the opposite end of where Adam sat and huddled back into the corner. She pulled her knees to her chest.
Then Miranda spoke from the back. She was sober. “She’s worried because she hasn’t heard from Mason.” She rose and met my gaze. “Did I get that right?”
I jerked my head in a nod.
A frown flashed over Adam, but it was gone the next instant. He scooted forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “What were they doing tonight?”
My mouth stayed shut, but my pulse raced.
Mark cleared his throat. “They were doing some prank on Roussou tonight, remember?”
Disdain filled Adam’s eyes. “Oh, yeah.”
“What were they doing?” Miranda stood in front of me and crossed her arms over her chest. “Or don’t you know?”
There was a challenge there, but I didn’t care. My arms trembled and my phone went off in that instant.
‘In your driveway. M’s hurt bad’
I bolted for the door.
“Sam, what is it?” Adam yelled after me.
My heart pounded now. I felt it thump in my chest as I raced up the stairs and flew for the front door. Then I froze on the doorstep. Nate and Logan held Mason up between them. Both of his arms were over their shoulders as blood dripped down from his face to the ground.
Then all three looked up, and I shrunk against the door.
Bruises were already starting to swell over their faces. Fresh and dried blood were on their arms, faces, knuckles—everywhere. Mason’s shirt was soaked in it.
I choked out, “What happened?”
Logan grunted when they moved past me into the house. “We were jumped. Fuckin’ Tiger pussies.”
“Oh my god,” someone screamed when they helped Mason to the kitchen table.
Everyone had followed me up the stairs and stood in a small crowd. Becky was white in the face while the guys seemed closed off. Mark’s hands were in fists at his legs as he jerked forward and pulled out the chair for Mason.
Adam circled around the group. His mouth was strained at the corners. “What happened?”
Logan sneered and moved to the kitchen sink. Nate cast a shrewd glance at them as well before he lowered himself to the chair beside his best friend.
“Sam?” Becky was that three year old again. She sounded so small.
“I—uh—some Roussou guys jumped them.” The statement rattled me, even though it was mine. I felt my feet become unglued from the floor and I rushed to the sink. With a hand to his arm, I nudged Logan aside and gestured for him to sit down.
Something surrendered in his eyes before he nodded and went to the table. He sat on the chair beside his brother. All three of them waited for me now as I filled up a small bucket of warm water. Washcloths were grabbed, along with the first aid kit Garrett left under the sink.
Miranda was white as a sheet as she stood a few feet from Logan. Her eyes clung to him, but he had his head down. His chin jutted out, in a resolved set. Her chest lifted up and down as her eyelids fluttered. The corner of her mouth turned down before she moved back a step. She surrendered something in that moment. It cost her. As she turned away, I saw the tears at the corner of her eyes. She brushed them away but never met my gaze. She knew I saw them. She didn’t acknowledge them.
I sighed as I sat the bucket on the table and turned first towards Mason.
Then Emily dipped a washcloth in the bucket. “I’ll help you.”
I nodded, with my throat full, and gestured towards Nate. She nodded and bent down before she dabbed at his face. He sucked in his breath but stayed put for the remainder of it. As she continued to clean his face, Miranda took the other washcloth. There was a haunted look in her eyes as she knelt before Logan and did the same. He cringed but that was his only response.
She continued as she cleaned his entire face and hands.
I sighed as I held onto my washcloth. Mason looked up with one eyelid swollen. He only had one eye that met mine and my lip jerked.
No one spoke a word as we cleaned their cuts, washed the blood away, and put bandages where they needed them. When I started to take the shirt off Mason, he shook his head.
“Cut it off.”
“You sure?”
He nodded and closed his eyes.
Adam handed the scissors to me and I started from the bottom up. As I peeled it off him, his wounds started to bleed again. A bruise was already black over his ribs. It spanned from his pectorals and wrapped around to his back. It didn’t stop till the bottom of his stomach muscles.
“Oh my god,” someone whispered.
Some others sucked in their breaths and I heard a whimper come from Becky.
My eyes jerked to his and I choked out, “Why are you the worst?” I held his gaze steady and ran a gentle thumb over his cheek. A tiny bruise had formed underneath his cheekbone.
He shook his head again in a slight grimace.
“How many?”