He’d never seen my bedroom until then. It was the one thing I’d never wanted him to see. I didn’t want his pity.

“Grab some clothes and things you need, like for school and shit. Hurry before that animal wakes up.”

*****

Without the opportunity to say anything to my mother who was sprawled over my unconscious father in tears, I left with a suitcase of my belongings, and we made it back to Jaxon’s house without interruptions. He carried my bag in, throwing it randomly on the floor before returning to the car to help me out. He treated me as if I was a wounded baby animal, delicately holding me close to him as he brought me up to his room.

He sat me down on the bed and then grabbed a glass of water, some painkillers and a wet rag. Turning on the light, he sat next to me and watched me down the pills.

Silence filled the air for ages until my head finally cleared and I was a lot calmer.

“Is there anything I can do for you? Should I get Mom?” he asked me, tentatively.

I looked at him and saw a face I never came across often: a sad Jaxon Barlow. There was so much emotion flooding out of his eyes, like a torchlight emitting a shine of deep pity for me.

I hated it.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I glowered at him.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m that poor Ugly Sara everyone used to laugh at.”

“I’m not laughing, Sara.”

I sighed. “Don’t get your mother. I’m fine.”

“You look like you’re in pain. You’ve got bruises on your arms already.” He lightly stroked my arm, and I looked down at what he was touching and saw the deep redness in my skin. It was going to be ugly tomorrow. “What’s hurting the most? Maybe I can help.”

“My shoulder and head,” I muttered, looking away from his penetrating eyes. “But I’ll be okay.”

He was royally pissed. “I’m half tempted to go back there and beat seven more shades of shit out of him. How fucking dare he touch you.”

“It’s fine.” I shrugged and drank the rest of my water before setting it down. “I was stupid to think I could be there. I shouldn’t be surprised the first night he’s back the shit storm followed with him. You were right to tell me not to go back.”

“Am I hearing this correctly?” he asked, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He leaned forward so that his face was in front of mine. “Say it, so I can relish the words.”

I fought a smile. “You were right, Jaxon.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that, but you shouldn’t.” His amusement went back to a frown. “You wanted to be there in case something happened to your mom, but now you know she’s not your responsibility. Not with the way she treats you, Sara.”

I nodded in return. My throat closed tight as I gulped away the sadness I felt for her. And disappointment.

“Where does it hurt on your head?”

I pointed to the side of my head, and he put a warm hand there, feeling the growing swell with a broken expression. “I’ll get you an ice pack for that. What about your shoulder?”

I pointed to it. Since my collar was torn from the monster’s shove, Jaxon was able to pull it down my right shoulder to have a look.

“It looks awful, Sara. You’re going to be in for a hell of a bruising tomorrow.”

I shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

By the look on his face, he didn’t believe it. He brought me closer to him and tugged me tight against his chest, breathing deeply into my hair. I could feel his heart beating faster through his chest. He kissed the top of my head and whispered, “No one’s ever going to touch you again.” I remember thinking I’d never felt so warm and protected in all my life than in his embrace.

*****

I slept in his bed while he sorted out some layers of blankets on the floor for himself. I idly thought that sharing a room with the opposite sex might have been uncomfortable for other people, but not for Jaxon and me. We’d grown up together, and I’d been at his house almost every single day since we became friends. There was nothing awkward about this.

He kept asking me if I was alright throughout the night. Every time I shifted and groaned in pain, he was by my side, overly worried. Eventually, exhaustion won him over and he fell asleep through most of my groans in the early hours of the morning.

The door creaked, and I opened my eyes to it. Lucinda stared at me, wide eyed, and then down at Jaxon. There was a nanosecond of shock on her face before it washed away into a broad smile. “Saw your suitcase,” she whispered to me as she walked into the room. “Jaxon told me yesterday afternoon you would be coming to stay…” She paused and eyed the wet rag on his dresser, the thawed ice pack, and the painkillers. Her cheeriness deteriorated into awareness. “What happened, Sara?”

“A tiny altercation with my father,” I muttered, forcing myself to sit up. I stiffened against the headboard. My head felt like a ticking time bomb ready to explode, and my shoulder was too painful to move.

Lucinda walked over Jaxon’s passed out body on the floor and took a seat on the bed next to me. “Are you alright?” Her eyes misted as she took me in with a long contemplative look.

“I’m fine,” I nodded. I reached out and stroked her arm to reassure her. “It would have been bad if Jaxon didn’t make it in time.”

“Did he hurt your father?”

“My father hurt me first.” There was no way I would allow her to get angry at Jaxon for this. By the softening of her expression, she agreed.

“I’m glad Jaxon’s past experience in fights actually helped for a good cause,” she mumbled, eyeing her son. “There’s a first for everything, I guess.”

She sighed. “Now, I have to ask this, so don’t be angry with me, but should I be worried that you’re sleeping in my son’s room?”

We attempted to make serious eye contact, but I burst into laughter soon after, and she followed. The lunacy of her statement was too much to stifle down.

“I’m sorry,” she said, touching my good shoulder, “I know nothing did, but it’s my responsibility to ask, right?” I nodded at her, wiping away the tears of laughter on my face. “I wish something would have, though.”

My eyes widened, and I raised my brows at her. “What?”