Rhys
"Holy shit. This is where you guys grew up?" Mike asks, window rolled down and head sticking out as he takes in the trailer park.
It's definitely a sight. There's people walking around hunched over so far they could be licking the ground, others eyeing me with a cigarette and beer in their hands.
"This is where Maeve grew up. I grew up down the street." I exclaim, watching Mikes jaw drop open at how run down some of the trailers are.
His nose scrunches at the smell I've gotten far too used to. "But-how does someone grow up in a place like this? There are literal holes through the roofs of most of these places."
I shrug. "It's all we had. And to Maeve and I, we thought we were living luxury even being able to afford a roof over our heads."
Mike blows out a breath, shaking his head as he continues to look around. "That's so fucking sad. For you guys to live like this and think it was normal. Even okay."
I nod because it is. But when it's all you have, you learn to cherish it. Even if it's a fucked up thing to cherish.
I park Maeve's car outside her Dads trailer, glancing around to see if his neighbours are around.
"Okay. This is it." I put the car in park and hop out.
Mikes eyes widen at the sight of Maeve's home. It's definitely one of the must rotten places in here, the roof starting to cave inwards and the door-well there isn't one.
"Nice place." I hear him mumble.
Glancing back to him, I jolt when I see a car a familiar car parked across us. I squint, thinking it's my mind playing tricks on me but...
No. No. No.
"Fuck!" I shout, now sprinting as fast as I can across the snow and flying up the wooden steps, ignoring the pounding in my chest.
I scramble down the hall, halting to a stop when I see a trail of blood leading to the kitchen.
No. She's fine. She's okay. She'll be just fine.
My legs can barely hold me up as I take the last painful steps towards the kitchen, nearly buckling from under me when I see her Dads back to me, chest heaving.
I don't see Maeve until I take a few more steps forward.
And I almost wish I never did.
"You fucking bastard!" I snarl as I jump her father, burying my fists into his face. "You fucking animal!"
"You little shit. You never did have any manners." Her dad swings back, catching my cheek.
Dodging a punch from him, I rear back, levelling the bastard with a punch to the jaw.
Blood sprays everywhere. Doesn't really matter though. It's already everywhere.
He staggers back, eyes wide like he never thought I had it in me and I take the opportunity to push him backwards, sending him staggering into the table, and dive on top of him.
I don't stop swinging. Not when his nose and jaw break underneath me. Not when Mike screams at me to stop.
"He's not worth it!" Mike shouts but that's the thing. Maeve is worth it.
My fists move so fast I can't even feel them swinging anymore. It's a nice fucking feeling. This sick fucker has been abusing my girl since she was four fucking years old. Since she could barely walk and talk. Since she didn't understand what was going on so she never defended herself against him back then.
Because that's what she thought fathers were supposed to do to their children. Punch them. Slap them. Burn them. Call them whores and kick them out when they're sixteen in almost negative fifteen fucking degrees.
So I just. Keep. Swinging.
I keep swinging until a familiar sob breaks through.
"You promised you would never leave. You already broke that once. So don't break it again. Please. He's not worth going to jail over." Maeve's plea is gurgled, blood spitting out of her mouth like a fucking waterfall.
Mikes hovering over her, hands inches away from her like he's not sure if he should even touch her with how much blood there is.
"We need to get her to a hospital, Rhys. She barely has a pulse." Mike whispers, not looking at me.
I finally register that I'm straddling her Dad, his face smashed into the cabinet behind him, eyes swollen shut and lip busted open.
"Oh god. Ok. Go-go get the truck started. And-and I'll carry her out there." I say numbly, marching over to where Maeve lays on the ground, her one eye barely open as she tracks me around.
"Shouldn't we-I don't know-call an ambulance?" Mike swallows, fumbling around as he gathers a tea towel and presses it to the back of Maeve's head, which I didn't even know was bleeding.
There's so much fucking blood.
I shake my head, my vision blurry. "No. No, they don't come out here. Never have. Go! Get the truck fucking started!" My shouting startles Maeve but it gives me hope.
Mike sprints off down the hall, leaving Maeve and I.
"Nova? If you can hear me, I'm going to lift you up now. Does that sound okay?"
No response. Not even a twitch.
Despite how much I feel like absolutely shattering, I pick myself up. Because I have to be strong. For Nova. And for Liam.
With my arm wrapped gently under her shoulder and my left hand shuffling under her knees, I pick her up and bury her against my chest, moving as slowly as I can in case something's wrong internally.
Don't fucking think about it.
She finally sobs, arching away from me with a cry of pain leaving her lips. I ignore my own tears falling.
"I'm so sorry. So sorry. Just a little longer, okay? Please. Please hold on a little longer." I sob.
She cries again when I start going down the steps, trying to hold her steadily against me so she doesn't rattle as much.
I lay her down in the backseat, ignoring all the blood on my clothes and climb in on the other side so her heads in my lap.
Even through her shirt, her chest looks caved in, her shoulder sticking out at a weird angle.
"Fucking drive Mike!" He does exactly that, speeding down the dirt road and onto the highway.
I look down, hoping to see Maeve's eyes looking back at me but instead I end up staring at her swollen face, both eyes shut closed and her nose a deep purple.
I press the washcloth to her head but curse when it comes back soaked so I end up just stripping my shirt off and wrapping her in that.
"You can't leave me like this." I sob. "Please don't leave me. I-I can't fucking breathe without you. Please. Please don't leave me. I just found you again. Please don't make me search for you again." I cry, throwing my head back against the seat, my hands trembling as they support her head.
"You-you can't do this. He's already took so much from me. Please don't let him take you as well." I whisper-gurgle, trying to brush away my tears as fast as I can so they don't fall on her but they just don't stop.
I truly don't see any way she's surviving this. Her head is bleeding like a spout, her chest bruised and swollen and I can't even look at her torso it's so bloody and purple.
"Mi-Mike. I-I-" I try to say something-anything-but my mouth can't form words.
He swallows, glancing back at me through the rear view mirror, the shake in his hands almost driving us off the road.
"How-how's she doing? Is-does she still have a pulse?" His voice quivers.
I wipe my hands and check her wrist. Nothing. I check her other one. Nothing. I check under her jaw and-
"I can't find a pulse Mike!" I cry, screaming at him. "-I can't find it! I can't find her pulse!"
"No! Maeve! Maeve! Fuck! No-you can't leave me!"
I scramble, double checking every point I can think of but nothing.
I sob so hard my eyes feel like falling out, my head pulsing.
"Check again! You-you might be wrong!" Mike shouts back, weaving down the highway.
I check both wrists. Again. I check under her left ear and then her right-
"I-I can feel it! She-she has a pulse!" I want to curl up and sob so fucking bad but I just cling to the limp Maeve who's laying on my lap, rocking back and forth with her head pressed into my neck.
Something vibrates against my ear and I draw back, watching Maeve's lips gurgle.
"Should have worn a better bra." She gurgles again, coughing blood onto my face before going limp again.
A laugh bubbles in my throat before breaking free. I clutch her tighter, laughing and sobbing as her fingers weave through mine.
And I clutch her tighter as we race into the hospital.