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Ethan groans as his step falters, and he collapses to the ground. The sidewalk is hard and unforgiving, and he thinks the broken concrete tears at his skin. But between the blood and bruises forming already it makes little difference. Ethan drags himself to his feet and begins to hobble again. He spies his apartment building in the distance and lets out a winded sigh of relief.
Getting back into his apartment proves to be a bigger challenge than Ethan would like. His keys are probably lying in a trash can somewhere, abandoned, along with whatever the thugs thought was useless so he has to settle for the fire escape. It’s old and rickety and certainly not up to code, but it’ll do as Ethan slowly climbs it. There are ominous creaks when he moves across the metal, but he ignores them. He doubts a fall would do much more damage at this point anyway.
The window to his apartment isn’t locked. Ethan owns very little worth stealing, and he props a wooden beam against it whenever he’s home. He’s grateful for this tonight as he slides his sore body through the window. He shuts it behind him before stepping slowly through the dark to avoid tripping. Not that it does him any good as with the second step his foot catches on something, and he smacks loudly into his dresser. Ethan groans at the impact but then freezes when he picks up the sound of someone in the other room.
A light flickers from under the door frame, and Ethan pushes himself up to reach for a nearby baseball bat. He never makes it. The door swings open a second later, and he’s staring face to face with his girlfriend, Mia.
“Ethan!” she exclaims and drops her handgun to her side. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Lost my keys,” Ethan mutters weakly. Part of him is grateful it’s only Mia, but the other part hates she has to see him like this. He even promises himself on the way home not to tell her. But when Mia flicks on the bedroom light, he hears her gasp, and he knows there is no way he can talk himself out of this one. Ethan blinks at the sudden brightness and feels her hands find him. “Tis but a scratch.”
“Shut up,” Mia growls. Ethan thinks he must look worse than he feels, and he feels like shit. He hears the fear in her voice and reaches up to comfort her. “Who did this to you?”
Ethan shakes his head then winces. That hurt . “I don’t know. They, uh, they jumped me outside the bar.”
“I’m gonna kill them,” Mia mutters and holds up his chin to look at him. She has always been protective, and he honestly doesn’t doubt she might find these strangers for revenge. Her eyes are dark, and his hand finds hers for a gentle squeeze. “Don’t say you’re alright. You’re not. You look like shit.”
He laughs then moans. Mia frowns deeper. “Okay, I’m not fine, but I’ll be okay.”
She makes a disproving sound but wraps an arm around his back to lift him slowly from the ground. “Let’s get you to the dining room table. I’ll look you over there.”
He won’t tell Mia, but the walk from his bedroom to the small nook he calls a dining room hurts more than he remembers the walk home being. Perhaps the adrenaline has begun to wear off and now the real impact of his beating sinks in. He groans when he sits in the chair. Mia watches him with a pained expression then disappears into the bathroom for supplies. Ethan takes the free minute to examine his wounds. His chest hurts but his breathing seems normal. He thinks he feels a split on his lip, and his nose hurts like hell. Ethan remembers the biggest one taking a swing at his face, and he hopes to God it’s not broken. On the rest of his body, he finds bruises and a few scraps from where he was tossed on the pavement.
“I should probably take you to the ER,” Mia starts upon her return. She motions for him to move forward, which he does, and slowly pulls his shirt over his head.
“No hospital,” Ethan moans and leans back. He winces when it connects to sensitive skin. Mia sighs, but he shakes his head. “I can’t afford an ER visit.”
“Urgent care then,” Mia suggests, and he thinks about it. “Tomorrow morning if anything.”
He acquiesces. “Tomorrow then.” Mia reaches up to gently clean his face. “I’ll probably feel better after a good night’s sleep anyway.”
Mia pulls back at that. “You’re not sleeping.” Ethan looks at her startled, but before he can protest, she cuts him off. “You might have a concussion.”
“My head feels fine,” he insists. In truth, his head is throbbing, but that’s to be expected considering the punch to the face. All he needs is some ibuprofen and a warm bed.
“Your face looks like someone took a baseball bat to it, Ethan. Even if you feel alright, we need to check just to be safe. I’m not going to let you fall asleep and then never wake up.”
Ethan salutes. “Aye aye, Captain.” He doesn’t have the strength to argue, and morning isn’t too long from now anyway. Besides, he won’t say no to a sugary cup of coffee.
This pulls the faintest smile from Mia, and it’s a relief to see. “What did these pieces of shit even want?”
“My wallet,” Ethan tells her. In retrospect, he knows it was dumb to fight so hard for a wallet of little value, certainly not compared to his life, but he didn’t have time to think when he was jumped. He just remembers swinging. “Both of my credit cards are practically maxed out, and I had maybe six bucks left so I doubt they’ll get far for all that trouble. The bartender promised me a few free beers for helping him pass calculus. It was the only reason I was even there.”
Mia frowns. “They did all this for just your wallet?”
Ethan grins, and it’s worth the searing pain that spreads across his face. “I might have gotten a few good punches in.”
“That’s my Ethan,” Mia whispers softly. She cups his check gently. “But, I’m going to train you how to use a gun. That way when three jackasses try something again you’ll be able to defend yourself.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Ethan tells her. “It’s not like I’ll ever need to use one again.”
“I’m from Texas, Ethan. It’s practically my birthright.”
Ethan chuckles. He remembers her dad asking to go hunting with him last year when he visited, and he is still grateful at the absolute downpour they received for days. Perhaps it’s time he learned at least to smooth over her father and his disapproval of the California boy Mia fell in love with.
“We’ll start small,” Mia continues. She ushers a quick apology when he winces as the alcohol seeps into his torn skin. “One day I might even teach you how to use a shotgun.”
“I can handle a shotgun,” he insists. Mia snorts. “I can!”
Mia ruffles his hair affectionately. “Next you’ll want a grenade launcher.”
“Why the hell would I ever want to use that?”
“Knowing you?” she teases then holds his head still to press the gentleness of kisses on his lips. It still hurts, but it’s a good kind of pain. Reminds him he’s loved and wanted even while he sits broken.
Mia wraps bandages around his arm where the skin was scraped away. Ethan figures most of his wounds lie just at or beneath the skin where bruises tell the tale. She then retrieves a bag of ice for him to place over the black eye forming. He honestly hopes he’s prescribed something for the swelling he knows he’ll have.
“Tell your coworkers you were defending my honor,” Mia starts with a mischievous grin. “And not over six dollars and a wallet you’ve probably had for ten years.”
“It was a good wallet,” Ethan protests lightly. She gives him a knowing look then offers to guide him to the couch. He accepts and arm and arm they wobble to the living room. She curls beside him, and they talk well into dawn about life and plans for the future. When he tells her he wants six kids, she laughs and threatens to pinch his banged up nose.
“What are you doing here tonight?” Ethan says as the clock strikes four am. They’ve moved positions; he’s laying across the cushions with his feet resting in Mia’s lap.“Not that I’m complaining but I didn’t realize you had planned to drop by or I would have skipped the bar altogether.”
Mia rubs gently at his feet. “Roommate had a male visitor, and our walls are thin. Didn’t feel like listening to that all night.”
Ethan nods. “Don’t blame you. Besides, I’m glad you were here when I came home. I wasn’t going to tell you, but I’m, uh, well, I’m lucky I had you to help me through this.”
“Me too,” Mia replies softly. She gives him an affectionate squeeze on damage free skin. “You know,” she continues. “I could always move in permanently. I graduate in three weeks.”
“I’d like that,” Ethan answers. “Then you can just protect me from all the baddies.”
Mia laughs then salutes. “It’s a deal.” She then eyes him meaningfully. “But we’re not going to have any more need for protection anyway, right?”
“How much trouble do you think I can even get into?”