When Perfect Meets Crazy

30

Despite how crazy the yesterday was with my mom's car scare and the prom committee debacle, today was shaping up to be quite peaceful. School passed by uneventfully. The prom committee even did some ass kissing since the caterer ended up calling with a change of heart half an hour after I left and Olly, thankfully, hadn't tried to give me a heart attack today. In fact, she had been almost angelic which under normal circumstances would've been suspicious but yesterday had already happened which meant she was also cozying up to me for saving her ass.

She retired to her room for the night a while ago. Our dad wasn't home yet.

It was peaceful.

I was curled up on my window seat, reading a novel on my phone with my afghan wrapped around me. The plan was to finish the book before my dad got home, then go to bed.

I was close to the end and it seemed like the guy I wanted to get the girl was actually going to get the girl. I, unfortunately, had a penchant for second leads so the characters I root for rarely end up together but this time, it seemed like they would.

I smiled to myself, pulling the afghan tight around my shoulders as a cold breeze filtered in through the window.

I absently reached for my cup of tea while waiting for the next page to load.

My gaze flitted out the window, taking in the clear night sky and scenic two-way street.

Well, until I spotted Ian clumsily staggering across the street.

I almost spilled hot tea on myself in surprise

What the...?

He made it to my backyard before crashing to his knees.

I frowned, gently setting the cup down when he didn't immediately get to his feet. I got to mine and reluctantly went down to find out what the problem was.

"Ian?" I called from the safety of the doorway.

A groan was all the reply I got.

"You good? What are you doing here?" I tried again.

I watched, worry beginning to gnaw at me as he slowly rose to his feet, limping the distance between us until like me, he was standing in the illuminated part of the doorway.

I gasped, my hands flying to cover my mouth.

His face was more red and purple than his normal skin color and was liberally stained with blood. He was sporting a split eyebrow, an almost swollen shut left eye and what I hoped to God wasn't a bullet wound in his right arm.

"The fuck...?" I rushed over to him.

He groaned.

"Are you...? What the fuck happened? You need a doctor!" I hissed, hooking his good arm over my shoulder to support his weight. I wasn't sure what was wrong with his left leg and a huge part of me really did not want to find out.

"Yell at me inside the house. I think I shook them off but I'm not sure," he managed before slipping into a coughing fit.

I paused, all sense of sympathy fleeing from my body.

"You think?" My tone was all ice and frost. "You think," I repeated. "Meaning, you might have led them..." I clenched my jaw, swallowing the rest of my statement in favor of helping him inside.

He was right. If he had in fact led a group of criminals to my house, standing outside was the worst idea.

I could just as well yell inside as I could outside. My dad wasn't home yet and Olly could sleep through a tornado. I could kill him as loudly and painfully as I pleased.