If Only

Chapter 20 - Not Afraid

"What the hell?" Nia yelled from the porch, I heard her footsteps running towards us, and then she was in front of me, looking me up and down. A wave of sadness seemed to strike her before she placed a stoic and determined look back on her face.

"Get her inside the den, now," she ordered, and Greyson was immediately walking towards the front door with quick, powerful strides.

"Sammy," Lizzy gasped as Greyson walked through the door, continuing on up a flight of stairs and through a hallway. Every step he took felt like another assault against my ribs. I gritted my teeth together tightly, squeezing my eyes closed in a fruitless attempt to dull the throbbing ache in my skull.

I felt Greyson lower my body onto the bed, slowly removing his arms from beneath me to avoid causing any more pain than necessary. I could tell he was trying his best to be gentle, but it really didn't matter much when every breath caused tears to spring to my eyes. I opened my eyes slightly as I glanced around the room to find lots of medical equipment inside, making me incredibly confused. Why did Greyson have some sort of hospital room in his house? I looked at him then, his brows were squinted in concern as he studied me intently, almost as if he could fix me just by looking at me.

"I'm sorry," I whimpered, hoping he knew just how sorry I truly was. This wasn't his burden to bear, but here he was. Here they all were.

"Sammy-" he began, shaking his head as his calloused hand reached out to brush my wild hair away from my eyes.

His touch was so light I could barely feel it, but sparks erupted all the same. I was going to ask him about that, as soon as talking and breathing wasn't such a difficult task.

"Tell me what's wrong," Nia demanded as she walked into the room, the others following closely behind her, interrupting whatever Greyson was about to say.

"Her ribs. And she's almost passed out twice," Greyson ground out, his rough voice even more so than usual.

"Anywhere else?" she asked, reaching into the bag behind her.

Everywhere, I thought. But I just mustered all my strength to shake my head no, knowing that my ribs and head were the most prominent issues.

"I'll kill him," Marco screamed from in the hall, loud clashing and banging ringing through the air. "I'll fucking kill him."

Nia used her foot to slam the door closed before bringing a pair of scissors closer towards me, grabbing my shirt softly as she began to cut from the bottom up. But as she reached the top she seemed to hesitate for a moment, taking in my already torn collar and the bloody scratch marks across my chest.

"Motherfucker," Greyson growled, his hands curling into tight fists.

"If you can't handle yourself then leave," Nia ordered.

Greyson gritted his teeth at the command, obviously not used to being told what to do, before returning his attention back to me silently. Nia seemed to take that as agreement to her terms as she finished cutting my shirt, peeling it off of me and leaving me in only my sports bra on the bed. I heard Lizzy taking in a breath at the sight.

I knew it had to look bad. My arms were covered with fingerprints and small bruises from the little aggressions Tyson would pull daily. My right hand was sliced open, nearly coated in blood that ran all the way up my elbow. The scratches across my chest held more weight than I allowed myself to consider, and that wasn't the worst of it all.

I tilted my head down to look at my stomach. My constantly skipped meals made my ribs prominent against my bruised skin. The old bruises from a week ago were greenish-yellow, similar to the ones across my face. Red, irritated skin held the promise of more bruises beginning to form. There was also a different colored bruise around my belly button that didn't look the same at the other bruises adorning my marred body.