"I'm on my way."
The phone clicked as I heard him knocking on a door. Relief that someone still cared coursed through me, allowing me to push myself up into a sitting position. Struggling inch by inch, I was exhausted by the time I made it against the wall to wait.
In some ways, I felt lighter. I'd been dreading the moment when the goons found me, and my reunion with Monroe had been plaguing me for months. Now, they'd both occurred, settling my anxiety and allowing me to breathe, even if that was difficult right now.
Fuck! I needed to find a way out of this debt. The crushing weight of it over me each day was slowly suffocating me. I didn't know how much longer I could live with that pressure, that fear. Always wondering if next time would be when they killed me.
I must've passed out again because what felt like mere seconds later, Monroe was slapping my face awake.
"Wells, buddy. Wake up."
"Stop it. I'm fine," I mumbled, slapping off the hand touching me. "I just need help up."
"You're far from fine, Wells. Shit, who did this to you?"
"Ow, man," I hissed, "careful. I just had the shit beat out of me."
"You don't say. Fuck. Okay, on the count of three, ready?"
"No," I groaned, "but let's do this."
"One, two, and three."
Monroe heaved me up, pain ricocheting through my body with the movement, as a groan left me.
"Come on, just a little further. We'll have to come back for your bike later."
I heaved one foot in front of the other, shards of pain slicing into my sides with each step. Shit, I'd definitely broken a rib or two. Fucking hell, those took forever to heal, meaning I'd be out of fighting for a while. At least I had a good reason not to see my kitten for a bit. Each time I was around her only served to remind me of what I would never have. Happiness.
A car sat at the end of the alley with its lights flashing. How Monroe found me here, I wasn't sure, but I was grateful. A girl came around and opened the door when she saw us, looking me over with a critical eye. She looked familiar, but in this light and with my eye partially closed, it was hard to say honestly.
Groaning, I landed in the car with a sigh of relief at finally making it. Monroe got in on the other side and started tending to my wounds as I passed out again from the effort. The ride to his apartment felt quick as I blinked open my eyes and found the car stopped in front of his building.
"Thanks, Nat, I owe you for coming out so late," I heard Monroe say as he got out of the car.
"Don't mention it. Be good to my girl," she responded, eyeing me like I was getting blood all over her upholstery. To be fair, I probably was. Oops.
The door opened, and I almost fell out of it from how I was leaning against it, Monroe barely catching me in time.
"Shit, man. Sorry."
Grunting, I focused on the steps I needed to take instead of the pain I was feeling. So close, and then I could sleep, I kept reminding myself. Monroe helped me into the building, past his doorman, and into the elevator. I sighed in relief at the break from the pain. The ride was quiet as we both waited for his floor, my head leaning back against the wall, eyes closed. Preparing myself, I sucked it up and pushed off from the surface to make it the last few steps.
I was leaning heavily against him now, slowing our trek, but I was scraping the bottom of the barrel on energy.
"Almost there, Wells. Come on."
We stopped in front of his door, and he knocked. I found it strange but then remembered he had someone watching Levi, so the bolts must be in place. It was a weird thing to focus on, but it helped me not think about the pain for a few brief minutes.
The door opened, and I heard a gasp, causing me to raise my head, expecting to find a high school kid or perhaps an older lady shocked with my wounds. Instead, I locked eyes with my kitten.
"Sad eyes," I whispered before everything went black.