Dante Harris was running. Running from an abusive past. Running from a messy break up. Running from the life he left in the small city of Round Rock Texas.
Somehow this small town boy has found himself in the busy streets of New York City, and in t...
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By the time we made it back to fight club, Dante and I were so completely worn out, we basically collapsed on the floor of the gym mats. He and I were one hundred percent soaked from the rain that was pouring ferociously outside. You could hear it coming down on the pavement. I couldn't tell what time it was, or how much time had passed for that matter.
As soon as I had remembered the key card I had slipped into Dante's hoodie this morning, I didn't wait to turn on the gps tracking app and take off through the drizzling rain in the direction it was telling me to go. It took me longer than I thought to catch up to Dante. I had no idea he could run that fast.
From the way Dante was gripping his body now, I knew he had been injured during that time. When I had finally caught up to him in that alley, he looked exasperated. There was now bloody water starting to pool onto the gym mat from his left arm's sleeve.
"Come on." I gestured to him. "I need to take a look at you before anything gets worse."
Dante was hesitant and clearly avoiding my gaze. He didn't take my hand, but instead lifted himself up. I noticed his body tense with pain when he put too much weight on his injured arm.
"I-It's okay, I can handle it." His voice came out unevenly.
"Don't be ridiculous. I have a first aid kit upstairs." I all but snapped at him. "Let's go." It was making me more and more unsettled seeing him in pain like this.
Dante and I made our way up to my flat. It felt like a mission and half considering just how unwilling both our legs were to move. I pointed to the edge of my couch, and told him to take a seat on the armrest. He slowly lowered himself, mindful of his side which also looked injured.
"I'll be fine, honestly." He tried in a last ditch effort to get me to leave it alone, but I shook my head at him.
"Will you pull your hoodie off?" I asked him. There was that hesitant look in his eyes as he continued to avoid my gaze, but his fingers eventually curled around the hem of the soaked sweater, and he began the tiresome process of peeling the fabric away from his body.
He looked a little confused as to where to set the dripping bundle, but I just had him hand it to me. When I reached into the pocket, sure enough, one of the key cards was still there.
"What is that?" Dante asked curiously.
"It's an access key for some lockers around here. Grayson kept losing his to the point where I had the company install a GPS tracker into them. I didn't wear anything with pockets today so I put it in your hoodie when I went to go pick up some materials for the roof." I explained to him.
If it wasn't for that small mindless act, I didn't even want to think about what would have happened to Dante.
He looked so deep in thought, I couldn't help but assume that he was thinking about that right now.
