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it had been an hour. an hour since he had said he would be home. an hour since he left the casino. every passing second that pit in your stomach dropped farther. you lost count of how many missed calls there were now. how many "please answer" texts you had sent. If it were anybody else you wouldn’t have been so worried, but you knew what could have happened, All the people he had after him. He could be dead right now and you would have no idea.
You paced back in forth across the kitchen floor, stopping every few seconds to run to the front door and look out the windows to see if he finally came home. Still nothing. Minutes passed, everyone felt like an hour. You were mid pace when you heard something. The front door unlocking.
you spun on your heel and ran towards the door, almost sliding into the wall. You had to stop yourself from jumping straight at him when you truly saw him.
His face was bruised, blood dripping down it. His entire body was shaking uncontrollably. His glasses and hat were gone, his shirt torn and jacket ripped to the point it didn’t even stay on his shoulders.
“Chance-! What-" you cried, your hands covering your mouth. He tried to limp his way in through the doorway and you reached out for him, he stumbled into your arms leaning onto you barley, his sobs let go the moment you two made contact. You had no idea what to do. Call an ambulance? Help him to the couch first?
You decided the second one would be the best thing to do first. He put one arm over your shoulder and leaned onto you. He winced at your touch, even the lightest made him gasp for air. Be slowly leaned to the couch, laying his back against the arm rest while you lifted his legs up onto it. His cries didn’t stop, you could tell he didn’t want you to see him like this as his poor attempt to cover his sad little face. The hot tears rolling down his cheeks made him feel pathetic. “You... you must think I’m a fuckin’ loser now huh?” He whispered. His little hiccups in-between words only made him feel worse. “Of course I don’t chance” you muttered. “Who-.” you looked back to him. “Who did this to you baby...”
He sniffled and tried to wipe his tears. “It- fuck..”
“It was sonnellino. I.. I didn’t want any trouble, but I was leavin’ and one of his grabbed me and dragged me down.” He couldn’t get himself to finish the story. He didn’t want to be weak. Not Infront of you. Not Infront of anybody. “Wait, fuck chance I- I should call for an ambulance- I’ll be right back don’t try to move”
You ran to the kitchen and grabbed your phone along with your water, quickly making the call. “Hello?? Uhm please I need- I need an ambulance or- something at _________ Rd please- my boyfriend just came home and-“you started to run back into the living room to him. “He’s bleeding and, he got beat up by a group please just- send someone” the operator assured you people were on their way and it was going to be ok. You thanked them and hung up. “Chance- they said they’ll send someone- do- do you need anything?” You could feel yourself start to cry a little. Seeing him in this state was something you’d never want too again. He nodded in reply. “C-could you maybe just help me get my belt off it’s- it’s too tight...” he whispered. You nodded and quickly reached down to unbuckle it, even undoing his pants to make sure they were pushing too much pressure onto him.
“Keep telling me what happened- please.” You pleaded. He gulped and continued. “After they got me to the ground... one of them knocked the wind out of me. Kicked me in the stomach... I- I think he broke one of my ribs... then- Don. Fuck... please doll be more gentle-“
you apologized and continued to unbutton his shirt and slide it off his shoulder to get a better look. The dark spots on his stomach from the kicking were massive. You gently placed your hand on it, not applying any pressure, barely even touching it and he winced to it, his teeth gritting as he sucked in air. You whispered an apology and waited for him to start again. “So... Don then- he grabbed me by the head and- from there I just- blacked out. I’m so fuckin sorry” he started to cry again. You sat on the ground next to him and slid your hand into his. Your thumb rubbing slow circles into his palm. "You shouldn't be sorry chance. you're lucky they didn't kill you... all I care now is that your alive. " he really was. if don wanted to he could have ended him right then and there. its as if he enjoys knowing chance is living with the pain. knowing he's helpless against the 5 of them. the endless thoughts ran through your mind until finally the red and blue lights shone through the windows out front.