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The street Caspar's house was on was one of the main roads and was half on the "good" side of town while the other was on the more criminal, the farther you went down in house numbers. Now that she knew where he lived, she was suddenly glad that he had been staying with Renly and the other boys.
During the entire drive, she couldn’t get it out of her mind that someone had to have driven him there, and whoever did, abandoned him. His ankle should have been getting better with every passing week, but she couldn't imagine him choosing to drive himself when he should have still been resting. However, just because he should have rested, doesn't mean he did. She’s done things almost as reckless as that in her past.
She just hoped that whatever was happening, she wouldn't be too late when she arrived.
His house was a one-story white building with a few of the windows on the side of the house boarded up. There was an unstable wooden porch attached to the front of the house which included a white table and two chairs beside it. The furniture appeared to be the type you'd expect inside the house, and Mykie could see from her car that the chairs were ripped up and stuffing was hanging out of some of the holes.
She parked her car on the street in front of the house and walked to the door. She could hear the yelling and screaming even from outside, which made her move a little faster. Her hand was pressed against the door, ready to knock politely, when she heard glass smashing. Forgetting any manners she was taught, she twisted the doorknob and rushed inside.
She looked around in quick succession. The living room she entered was trashed. One of the table lamps was on the ground, the coffee table was turned on its side, and there were papers and envelopes thrown everywhere. If it wasn't for Caspar’s call earlier, she would have believed that someone ran through the place in hopes of finding something valuable.
She snuck through the hallway, which led away from the arguing people. It was a long hall with many doors veering off it. It took her a few tries before she found the correct room.
She tried the doorknob first, but it was locked. It was the only one in the hallway that she found locked. She knocked on it a few times before she leaned her head against the door, waiting for any possible sound to come from the other side.
Sure enough, there were sounds of shuffling for a few seconds before everything stopped.
She knocked again and whispered, "It's me, Caspar. Open the door."
There was more scuffling on the other side of the door before the sounds of clicks and locks were loud in Mykie's ear. She took a step back just in time for the door to open a crack.
She heard him sigh behind the door, but she didn't see him. "I shouldn’t have called you."
She scoffed. "Of course, you should have. Your safety is my responsibility.“
"Promise me that you won't freak out," he said, and she could hear the urgency in his tone.
"I'll promise, but I don't see why—"
Caspar opened the door the rest of the way and her words died on her lips.
His lip was definitely going to be swollen if it wasn’t already. There was smeared blood on the bottom of his mouth that she wasn't sure where it has come from—his nose or lips. His silver hair was sticking up every which way, like he was pulling at it before she arrived.
She clenched her fists and her jaw started hurting from how tight she was clenching her teeth. "What happened?"
"You promised—"
"I'm beyondfreaking outat the moment, Caspar Watson. I'm fuckinglivid. So, you can either tell me what happened and why you have blood on your face, or I'll ask whoever is in your kitchen and I won't be so nice," she snapped.
"It wasn't a big deal..."
Mykie touched his cheek gently and she could see that she surprised him into silence by the way his eyes widened. She wasn’t sure if it was the lighting in the room, or if his eye was starting to bruise, but she brushed the pad of her finger along the underside of his amber-colored eye. She was shocked to feel him shaking when she touched him. Was he scared after whatever happened to him, or was he afraid of her reaction?
"You have blood on your face," she repeated in a voice barely above a whisper. Her chest tightened when he pulled his bottom lip between his lips before quickly letting go of it with a wince. "This is all my fault. I told you I'd help you."
He shook his head before she could finish talking. "No. You’ve been busy. You didn't know she’d call, and I'd come back here for my stuff."
"But I should have! Don't yougetthat?" she stressed through clenched teeth. "I should have been the first person you thought to go to before you came here."
Her hand dropped from his cheek. "I've been so focused on my own drama and my own self-doubt, and now you had to put yourself in a position where you were alone and hurt."
"No, I understood," he protested. "You've got your responsibilities to the Cantil first, and I didn’t want to bother you with something stupid like this."
"Bother me as much as you want," she argued. "Yes, the Cantil is important to me, but you are myfirstpriority."
His lips lifted into a smile, but he seemed to wince from the pain.
His reaction only made her repeat herself more firmly. "My responsibility to you is just as important as the one I have to my family."
