Liam and Shaun have each other. Ethan is never around anymore and with him being the oldest, I was always just the annoying kid brother. Dad only cares about the club and mum is too busy taking care of and feeding five huge, hungry men to worry about me.
I live in a crowded fucking flat with five other people and I feel completely alone. Really, the only attention I get is when I’m fighting or when I get my reward. Right now, I live for those fucking rewards. It’s the only human contact I get that doesn’t involve punching, and the only time in my life when I have some sort of semblance of control.
After Liam’s fight, I trudge down the dark streets towards my flat. By the time I’m nearly home, I feel guilty. I probably should have gone out to celebrate Liam’s win with the rest of my family. This particular match was such a big deal even my mum went with them to the local pub.
Rule 1—Family first.
Whatever. So I broke a rule. I’m the youngest, the defiant one, the one they always expect will go left when they say go right. I’m sure no one thought I’d turn up anyway. I told them I’d meet them out at the pub and came home instead. Any punishment dad comes up with won’t break me. I’m used to his methods by now. Yet those sodding rules still gnaw at me like Catholic guilt, popping into my thoughts every time I do something that doesn’t follow their restrictive instructions.
As I approach my crumbling old building, I see the dark shadow of a person sitting near the graffiti-covered entrance. No matter how good I am with my fists—and I’m good—I’m still wary of getting into a street fight with a bloke on the piss or a nutter who went off his meds. When I get close I have my hands clenched and ready for whatever comes next.
A low moan breaks the silence and the figure turns his head towards the dim streetlight.
“Adam?”
Fuck! I sprint the remaining distance, dropping to the cold ground next to my best friend. My heart seems to clog up my throat, making it difficult to breathe. Something is very wrong.
“What happened? Are you hurt?”
Adam wheezes, wincing from the effort, but doesn’t answer. Gravel digs into my knees as I check him for injuries, but I ignore the sharp pain. All I can see are a few scrapes on his face, some worse than others. It’s not nearly enough to have him looking this pale or to render him practically unconscious.
“Adam!” I lightly shake his shoulders.
Still no answer. Adam’s hazel eyes are glassy, unfocused. Panicking, I yank up his thin jumper, exposing his undershirt to the cold air. My mouth dries up and I let out a gasp, bending over in pain as if I were punched in the gut.
Holy fuck!
It’s dark out, so the shiny, dripping wetness on his white shirt looks black. But it’s not. It’s blood. Loads of it. So much so that I can smell the metallic tang in the crisp January air.
“Adam! I need to get you to hospital.”
I reach down to help him up, shoving one arm under his arms from the back and the other in front. I’m easily able to hoist him to his feet. Miraculously, he doesn’t collapse even though I’m supporting most of his weight.
Adam whispers in my ear, so soft it’s just a faint rasp.
“Come again?”
I can hardly hear him, but his words are clear. “No. Hospital. Danny.”
His own brother? Bastard!
I tense up, squeezing with my arms, which causes Adam to hiss in pain. “Danny did this?”
Adam can’t respond. He passes out, his head dropping forward and his body becoming slack in my arms. Lucky for me Adam is fairly thin and I’m fit, or else I wouldn’t be able to manage. It takes almost half an hour, but I get him back to his flat and into his bed. I can’t keep him at my place, my parents would insist on going to A&E. They’ve known Adam forever and care about him as if he were another Davies.
By the time I get him home, get to the all-night chemist to retrieve some supplies to clean his wound, and get back to Adam’s flat, we’re both drenched with sweat —me from exertion, Adam from shock.
Shaking, I sit on the edge of Adam’s bed—just a dingy mattress on the floor—and hold my head in my hands. My best mate was almost killed tonight. Something has got to change.
Kate
I watch ruefully as Dax and Ellie walk away from school together, threading my fingers thr
ough the end of my braid. Never in my life did I think I would hate football, but today I do. I’m stuck at practice, in the freezing cold, while Ellie gets escorted round town by the boy I want more than anything in the world.
“Oi. What’s that about?”
I turn to see Tasha staring at Dax and Ellie, her brow wrinkled in confusion.