Save Me

Chapter 10

All these questions appear in my head but that it's all they are. Questions in my head without an answer.

"Did you get hurt?"

"No,"

"Corbyn,"

"Fuck! A little okay?"

"Where?" my uncle questions and I gaze as Corbyn raises his hands. I can't see anything and I turn around and carefully stick my head out again. My eyes widen in pure shock and agony as I take in his appearance.

His hands are bruised and cut as blood runs from them. His cheek is scratched and a see a bruise in his neck. His white shirt is dirty and my eyes move to his lip. The lips I was admiring earlier today are pressed into a hard line due to his anger and his bottom lip is cut too; a little blood running from it.

I want to run and hug him tight. I want to take care of his hands and lip and make the blood vanish. But mostly what I need to do is make that pain go away, not the physical but that pain that I could clearly see in his magical blue eyes. The pain that was killing me to witness and the one it was killing him from inside too. I bite my bottom lip as tears full my eyes. Who is responsible for this? Who made him this way?

"We need to take care of that," My uncle says pointing in his wounds.

"It's nothing," He murmurs. If those wounds are deep they can cause him a lot of problems. He should cover these open wounds to avoid any kind of infection. The thoughts make my need to get out of the shadows stronger and I tug my hair; wishing to erase this tension within me.

"Corbyn, what is going on?" My uncle asks him after a few seconds of silence.

"Nothing," My uncle keeps staring at him, waiting for an answer.

"The usual shit. Nothing needs to happen to remind me how much of a miserable hell my life is."

"You need to understand that in life nothing is granted. You have a lot of things that other people don't. But you don't have something that somebody else does that you might want to or indeed need."

"I don't need fucking anything from anyone. I just need to get the hell away from him. I wished he was dead," He states without any sign of emotion in his voice. His cold and harsh tone make me shudder and I feel chills run up and down my spine.

"Don't say that," My uncle tells him.

"I do and I fucking will." Corbyn answers angrily. Whoever they're talking about must have hurt him. "You are mad at him and you have every right to be but you can't wish something like that. Some people would give anything to have him beside them."

"Amelia," Jacob whispers and I frown. I notice as Corbyn's head leans up and meets Jacob's gaze with wide eyes.

"Exactly, like Amelia. She lost both of her parents without any warning. What wouldn't she do to bring them back?" My uncle says and both stay silent as I ask myself the same question. I would do anything to go back and save them. I would do everything to have them next to me again.

"She doesn't have any siblings or some other kind of family for that matter. The person closest to her is Mia, an aunt she had seen two times when she was a little kid. She came to an unknown place where she doesn't know anybody and she cannot talk." The familiar wetness has revisited me once again and tears slowly run and meet my cheeks.

"You know, sometimes I wonder what is going on in that head of hers," Jacob murmurs but what was said next hit me hard. Really hard.

"Sometimes? I wonder that all the time," Corbyn words surprise me and the tears from the mention of my parents, stop running. My lips part as I stare at him in utter shock.

"Well, imagine what Amelia must think of her life. I don't know about you but I actually think she's strong,"

The girl that almost every night cries in her pillow and her eyes pool in a split of second at the mention of her old life? No, I'm not strong. I'm trying to be.

"It would be really interesting when she starts to talk," Jacob says sounding interested.

"Have you ever heard her voice?" Corbyn asks looking at my uncle and once again he leaves me speechless.

"Yes, in the past but it was so many years ago. She was a little girl, her voice has certainly changed since then. The center of this conversation isn't Amelia though. I need you both to promise me that you won't do anything so stupid again. This is the last time and I will let this go because you could have lied to me but you didn't. And Corbyn..." my uncle says resting his hand in Corbyn's shoulder.

"This rage doesn't affect him. It only hurts you and I shouldn't be saying this but it doesn't worth it. You are a brilliant young man and you can be so much more than a drunk troublemaker. You just need to believe this yourself."

I feel overwhelmed by my uncle's words. He must really love Corbyn like his own son. The way his voice is soft and his eyes mirror care; it depicts the pure worry for Corbyn. He is a good father like my father was.

"I know what it's going on," My uncle states and Corbyn's eyes widen. I think he wants to talk but he seems to be in a loss of words.

"How...did you..."

"It doesn't matter when and how. If you need anything and I mean it, you can always come to us,"

"I know,"

"Good. Now you get your ass to your bed," He tells looking at his son "And yours to your house. It's late and tomorrow you have school." My uncle says dismissing them both.

"Goodnight," Corbyn speaks before he disappears and I head back to my room, not being able to remember why I went down in the first place. At the top of the stairs, I hear Jacob's voice.

"I know that this isn't the right timing but can he live here with us?" My eyes nearly pop out of my head. Does he have financial problems? What about his parents?

"I'm afraid we cannot do this. His legal parents have all the rights to do so. He can't just stay here without their permission or any proof that they are incapable of keeping him safe and offering him a house to live."

"I hate this man,"

"Jacob," My uncle voice is strict as if he's warning his son.

"Dad, you don't know him. I know some things because Corbyn has told me about and he's... I can't even imagine living in the same house with him."

Is he talking about Corbyn's father? What is going on with him? His mother?

As I listen to Jacob's words, I see Corbyn. He's approaching a huge black jeep. He unlocks it and gets in. He must be rich or more correctly his parents must be. The ones that I have so many questions. He takes off and I stand there watching his car disappear in the darkness as I think about what I've heard.

He seems strong, fearless, and unapproachable to the most but if you take a better look, you will find out that he's more than that, so much more than that.