An Open Sky

Chapter Thirty-Eight ~Alexa~

                I could’ve walked away. I could’ve left then, leaving Aidan alone. But I found myself stepping through the door. I gasped, taking him in. Half of his face was bandaged, his only functional eye blackened by the cuts and bruises underneath. His bottom lip was still slightly bleeding. His wrists were wrapped in a thick, crimson-stained bandage and his right foot was heavily weighed down in a cast. I could just make out the fresh stitches on his left bicep.

                He grinned, straining to see me through his swelling eye. “Attractive, right? Word on the street is that girls like guys with scars so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

                “Not funny.” I walked over to him.

                “Oh really?” He laughed, ending in a groan. He tried to extend his fingers to his trembling side, but was restricted by the several IV’s hidden under his skin. “I bet Jay would think so.”

                “Don’t bring him into this, you know what you did,” I snapped. The only thing that was keeping me from hitting him was the pity welling inside of me. His grin disappeared.

                “So was Dale here?” I asked, trying to avoid any awkward silences.

                He nodded, not caring to elaborate. I let a few moments pass silently; I wished I hadn’t.

                He shifted to face me, “I know you heard that. You don’t have to pretend you didn’t.”

                “Heard what?” Just because I heard it didn’t mean I wanted to confront him about it.

                “My mom,” he paused. “You heard us talking.”

                “I heard your mom talking,” I corrected. He frowned. “What happened?” I wanted to know. I wanted to somehow make this better; at least that’s what I told myself. I knew I wanted to know about him. I didn’t care how it ended. I wanted to know everything about him. Talking to him was bad news, and I loved it. I loved being cautious around him. I loved not knowing what would happen next, and it was slowly pushing me towards him, more involved in his life than I should have ever been. 

                “Nothing, she’s always been this way. It’s gotten worse since my dad died, but not that you care. I’m sure you came here for my life story, right?” More sarcasm. I was quickly beginning to hate it. The sad part was that the statement was as close to the truth as it could have been.

                “That’s not true; I do care.”

                He laughed. “I actually almost believe you. Is that bad?”

                “No,” I snapped. “What’s with you? I’m here, okay? If I didn’t care then I wouldn’t be here. Maybe I should just leave.”

                “No, sorry, I just-“ he pulled on the IV cords, groaning, “Will you help get me out of this?”

                “Don’t do that. They’re there for a reason, Aidan.” His name was like a drug on my lips, dangerous, but exhilarating.

                He sighed, pressing himself further back into the pillows. “I’ve been staying with Dale; he’s been like a father to me. A better one than my father ever was, actually. He was kind of a violent guy; cancer finally ended his drinking problem.”

                I glanced down at my feet, not sure how to react to his sudden confiding in me. There was silence for a while. Then, suddenly, his fingers clenched tight at his sides and he was gasping for air.

                “Aidan!” I called; his eyes were as tightly closed as his fists. “Hey, what’s wrong?” I could feel my heart racing. I was reluctant to touch his face in fear of inflicting more pain, but I found my fingers tracing his jaw line up past his ear into his sweat-dampened hair. My thumb stroked the rough, delicate, scabs under his eye. I took a few strands of hair in between my fingers, scared to see how much sweat was dripping down his neck.

                He opened his eyes, the bruised one staring up at me. “Dale’s still gone,” he strained to get the words out. “I need you to do something for me.”

                “Sure,” I nodded.

                “See the jar over there?” He gestured with his head to the small container on the table next to him. I nodded. “This is going to seem really awkward,” he paused, grimacing, “but I need you to spread that over the stitches on my side. I can’t reach with the stupid chords in my arms. It’s some pain medication or something.” He held his breath, I was nervous that it may come out in another scream. I hated pain. I couldn’t deal with it, nevertheless help someone else through it.

                “What? Um, I guess I can do that.” I reluctantly released his face and grabbed the container off of the table, twisting it open. The pungent lotion smell was so strong that my eyes almost started watering. I set it on the bed next to him. I pulled the covers back down to his knees. Does he want me to pull open his gown or what? My heart was in my throat. “Um, what do you-“

                He grinned, breathing as heavy as I was. “Don’t worry, I’m wearing shorts.” I could see him blush from the corner of my eye.

                I slid back the thin fabric of the gown and several layers of bandages before freezing at the sight of at least twenty stitches stretching from his left hip almost all the way to his stomach. My eyes traced his hip bones to the hem of his shorts, how they curved in like a 'V’. I hesitantly dipped my fingers into the lotion-like medication and spread it over the stitches. I flinched as my finger passed each forcefully joined lump of his skin. I could see his muscles flex under my touch. He gasped.

                “Does that hurt?” I asked, meeting his eyes.

                “A little, but that’s okay. I’ll manage.” He grinned. I quickly reapplied the bandages as best as I could and covered him, trying not to linger on how my skin was burning against his.

                I returned the container to the table, and went to rinse my fingers in the sink. It was ironic how his breathing was returning to normal while mine was accelerating out of my control.

                I glanced at the clock above the sink. I should’ve left a while ago to get ready for my dinner with Jay, but my hunger had disappeared.

                “Are you late for something?” Aidan asked his voice almost normal-sounding again. I hadn’t realized I’d been staring at the clock for so long.

                “Um, I just have a lot of homework. I should go,” I lied. There was no way I was bringing Jay into this.

                “Oh, okay.” He frowned. I turned toward the door, not wanting to think about him anymore. “Alexa?”

                “Yeah?” I turned, taking in his broken body one last time.

                He hesitated. “Promise me you’ll visit again?”

                “I promise,” I said, immediately regretting my words. Seeing him again would mean having to control myself. I knew I needed him, and I couldn’t stand it.

                I turned down the hallway, even daring to wave and cast a smile to the receptionist on my way out.