~Jude~
The walk to Carter's motel was slow and silent. When we arrived, we both lingered in front, but said nothing until I barely managed to whisper, "Not leaving, right?"
"I'm here," Carter said then he walked away.
I wanted to shout after him, "Please don't leave." I checked the urge to grab hold of him to make sure he didn't take even one step further from me. He was only going to his room. I was pretty sure he wouldn't be leaving town for now.
I loitered there for a while, my body still humming from being so close to him. He didn't even have to touch me, and I was like this. I needed time to recover, to breathe through it before I drove away. I looked up at the door of his motel room and smiled to myself. I kept him from leaving. Mission accomplished. As for the rest... Damn.
But I had another mission—Dave. That thought sobered me up. I was ready to scour the whole town for him, but the longer I didn't hear from him, the darker things looked for Dave. Instead of going to the car, I moved into a patch of shade under one of the few trees in the motel parking lot and got out my phone.
Fighting the sinking feeling, the sense of dread and telling myself that we would find him, I called Tara.
"What's new?" she said.
I had already texted her about the little that I found out at the factory, and I had nothing new to report. "No sign of Dave."
"Nothing here either," she said with a sigh.
"For him to be gone this long and not to show up at any of the hangouts..." I started to say.
"He left town. He must have," Tara said. "What about that guy with the chronic bitch-face. You still trying to reform him?"
"There might have been one or two positive developments. I kept Carter from leaving town," I boasted, but kept my mouth shut about the rest.
Tara didn't see the news in a positive light. "He was going to skip town. That jerk. Why do you waste your time on someone like him?"
"He has potential."
"You wouldn't know potential if it bit you on the ass. For the love of god, Jude, find someone nice. Date. Smooch. Cuddle. And don't fall for any more guys who hate you," she commanded.
"So you think he hates me?" I said and felt my heart seize up.
"Stop obsessing about him and what he thinks of you," Tara scolded me.
"Did you ever consider being supportive and encouraging? Just to try it out?" I asked her.
"Shut your face." I guess that was my answer.
"So do you have time to help me look for Dave?" I asked her.
"After I get off work, but I'll text a few people, see if anyone has any news. What's your plan?" she wanted to know.
"I'll have to get back to the house. If I can get away, I might drop by Maypole Park, find out what I can and report back," I told her.
"Ok. Watch your back out there. If you had any money, I'd tell you to watch your wallet," she said and hung up.
As I put away my phone, a familiar voice sounded from behind me. "Do I even have to wonder what you've been up to?"
It was just a hoarse whisper, but I jumped. My heart hammered in my chest. I almost knew that voice. I turned and there he was—too close. I couldn't see him properly yet. He was a shadow, a shoulder, a mean smirk and then a fist shooting out and connecting with my face.
Recognition hit me like another punch. Rooster.
Just as I fought to stay on my feet, a punch hit my side. A kick to my shin and I was down, another punch from above and I was flat on the ground. The rest...
A loud noise of a car horn then stillness. No more blows, just constant pain and a bright red light behind my eyelids. I wanted to pass out, but then I heard cursing and someone desperately calling my name. It sounded good.
That voice angry and a little breathless was so sweet to hear. Then I was being lifted and pain flashed through me. I was the one cursing now, and I opened my eyes to the sight of Carter. He was holding me. That would be nice if it didn't make the pain worse.
"You're hurting me," I groaned.
"I'm sorry. Who did this to you?" he asked.
I wasn't about to tell him though. The whole deal with Rooster was a minefield. "Some guy tried to mug me and got scared off," I lied and moved my legs, testing them out.
"I'm calling 911," Carter said.
"No, don't," I said. My head was spinning, but I managed to keep my eyes open and take stock of things. While I lay propped up against Carter, I realized that he was sitting on the pavement with an arm under me. Gingerly, I moved a little testing the state of my body. My shoulder hurt but nothing was broken. I already knew my legs were Ok, and I was pretty sure my ribs were only bruised. I just needed to lie down.
"Take me to your motel room so I can clean up," I said to Carter though I felt like he might have to carry me.
"You need to go to an emergency room," Carter said, trying to boss me around.
In too much pain, I wasn't in the mood for that crap. "Fuck you, Carter. Just help me up."
Carter growled then started to rise to his feet and pull me up with him. I got to my feet, but what I was doing couldn't really be called standing. All my weight was on Carter. He propped me up and moved me along at a snail's pace.
Finally we were at the foot of the stairs leading up to his motel room. Just the sight of those stairs killed me. How the fuck would I ever make it up there?
"We can take it slow or I can carry you," Carter offered.
I was tempted to let him hoist me up, but I felt like I couldn't turn helpless now. It would be too easy to fall apart, let the pain win, but I couldn't let myself sink into old habits.
One step at a time Carter got me up there. I leaned on him so heavily, he might as well have been carrying me. He could have done it easily. I could feel his strength all through me.
By the time we were through the door of his motel room, I was ready to pass out. Carter walked me to the bed and lowered me down gently. For a little while he leaned over me while I breathed through the pain. He was so handsome when he was worrying about me, the bastard.
"I'll be right back," he said and then he was gone. I heard water running. Soon he was back. I felt his weight on the mattress, but I couldn't force myself to open my eyes.
"Jude, stay with me," he ordered me, and I felt the cool pressure of something wet on my face. He was dabbing my cuts with a wet paper towel. Feeling water trickle over my skin and into my hair, I wondered how big a mess I was.
He wiped the blood carefully so he could see what was happening underneath. I already knew about the cut on my lip. From the sting, I knew there were others over my eye and on my cheekbone.
I looked down at my clothes. "Fuck. I have blood on my shirt."
"You can borrow one of mine," Carter said. He probably didn't get why I cared about that.
"I don't want my mom to see me like this," I explained. Then I wondered about something. "How did you find me?"
"I saw the car and went to check why it was still there," Carter said then gave me a grave look. "We need to call the cops."
"No, we don't. I don't want to deal with them. I just need to rest for a minute," I told him.
"You need to go to the hospital," Carter said.
"No. I'm not that bad," I told him and tried to sit up to show him. It didn't go well.
Carter pushed me back down gently. "I'd like some x-rays to confirm that."
"Too damn bad," I said, getting testy. "Sorry."
"Then I'm going to check you over myself," Carter said.
I grinned weakly. "That sounds promising."
Actually, it was mostly painful though Carter handled me tenderly. First he took off my shirt, wincing as I gasped in pain. "Sorry," he whispered.
My jeans were next. For the second time today his fingers were busy undoing my belt and fly. He did it a lot more slowly this time. Though my cock reacted, we both ignored the tenting of my boxers.
Carter frowned at the bruise on my leg but I already proved I could walk. Taking my hands, he moved each of my arms and checked my shoulders too. He then ran his fingers along my ribs and lowered his head to my chest to listen to me breathing.
Damn, I was so happy right then though I was in pain. There was something so touching about the way he took care of me and paid attention to every inch of me, always making sure he didn't hurt me.
"See? I'm not that bad," I said to him then I shivered.
"Let me cover you up," he said and pulled the sheet and the cheap motel blanket over me. I felt warmer already.
Carter went to get some first aid supplies and I dozed for a while. When he came back, he disinfected my cuts and gently stuck a few Band-Aids on me. I slept fitfully some more then woke up to the sound of my phone. Carter handed it to me.
"It's just Tara updating me that she doesn't have any news about Dave."
"Don't you need to update her too?" Carter said giving me a significant look.
I was confused then I realized he wanted me to let Tara know what happened to me. "Fuck."
"You better tell her. If I end up having to talk to her, I'll be pissed," Carter told me, not leaving me a way out.
"You're always pissed," I grumbled and typed a low-key version of what happened. I was hoping Tara wouldn't overreact, but no such luck. "Great. Now she's coming here." I reached for my jeans so I could make myself decent for her visit and cover up some of my bruises at the same time.
"I'll help you," Carter said. He helped me get my jeans back on and also got me one of his t-shirts to wear.
As I got dressed slowly and painfully, I knew I'd have to let my mom know I wouldn't be back yet. I kept it vague and didn't mention that I was hurt. Bad news could wait.