“What do you want to do here, kid?” a voice I don't think I recognize asks the question.

“I don’t… Fuck, I don't know,” Cal murmurs in reply. His anxious voice makes the warm object pressing into the side of my head rumble. “Does she need a hospital?”

“I don't think so, but can't say for sure. The fact that she passed out means she could have a concussion. She could maybe use a stitch or two for cosmetic purposes too, but those bandages should do an alright job. We have some glue at our place. You could use it to help hold the skin together. Oliver will have a better idea of what to do here though. Justin?”

“Yeah?” the voice of the person who spoke to me just before I passed out speaks up. He seems to be sitting further away now.

“Text Oliver. Tell him the situation.”

“Adam,” the voice chides, dragging out the first syllable in the name. “C’mon now, I'm not that useless. I already sent a text out while you were in the drug store.”

“Fuck,” Cal murmurs again. Warm fingertips brush against my neck. “Okay… fuck. She doesn't have a health card or anything. I don't want to draw attention that could bring in the cops either. They can't find me.”

“It’s your call,” the deep voice replies, which receives another muttered curse from Cal.

A whimper of pain sounds in the back of my scratchy throat while fingertips press against my forehead.

“Emy?” The fingers retreat while Cal says my name. “Angel? You okay?”

I peek my eyes open to find Cal’s worried face leaning over mine. I make a measly attempt to sit up, but his hands quickly put an end to it, gently pressing me back down to where my head has been resting in his lap.

“Don't sit up. Give yourself a minute.” He smooths my hair back from my forehead and frowns when it catches on something, then lightly scratches at my skin to free the caught strand. “I need to finish placing these bandages. It might hurt a little but…”

His fingers are pressing into my forehead again before he finishes speaking, and I breathe in sharply.

“Fuck, dammit. I know, baby, I know.” The fingers of his other hand massage my shoulder, kneading into my flesh to draw the attention away from his prodding fingers on my pounding skull. “There ya go. All done.”

I turn my face into his stomach to hide my tears, and Cal's fingers sift through the hair at the back of my head.

“I don't know what to do here, angel,” he admits in a whisper. “Do you want to go to the hospital?”

I begin to shake my head but the action hurts so I opt for talking instead. “I don't want the cops to find us.”

He sighs and drags a hand over his face. “That's not what I asked, Emy.”

“We could drop her off at the door,” Adam suggests.

I instinctively press closer to Cal while whimpering, “No.”

But I'm not sure if I’m heard, since Cal says at the same time, putting a strong emphasis on every other word, “She stays with me.”

Loud music starts playing but only a few notes sound before Justin says, “Hey… Yeah, they're in our van now… Yup. Sure thing.”

A phone is held out over my head.

“It's for you.”

Cal frowns before taking the phone out of Justin's hand and bringing it to his ear. “What?” he asks by way of greeting.

“Well, that's a rude way to say hello.”

The voice on the other end of the phone sends chills through my spine. I remember that voice. It belongs to the older man who seemed to be in charge of the group that attacked Cal.

“I understand you're having a bad time right now. So, I'll let it go,” the man continues when Cal doesn't reply. “Things haven't been going so well for you since we last spoke, have they?”

“No.” Cal keeps his answer short and simple.

“Shame. My offer still stands though, you know. You could change things around for yourself. For your girl.”

Cal remains quiet, eyebrows drawn together while he stares down at me. His eyes flicker to the throbbing spot on my forehead before he closes them.

“Tell you what,” the man speaks again when it becomes evident that Cal isn't ready to answer him, “you don't need to make a decision right now. Bring your girl here so we can fix her up. I got news that she hurt her head? We’ll supply you a hot meal and a warm bed for the night and then we’ll have a chat in the morning. After that, you'll be free to go if that's what you decide.”

“That simple, eh?” Cal asks cynically.

“That simple,” the man agrees.

Cal opens his eyes again to look at me. I hope my expression conveys my hesitancy to trust these men, but if he notices, he pretends not to. He averts his gaze to look out of one of the tinted windows in the side of the van. His fingers toy with the hair at the top of my head. “Okay.”

“Good choice, son. Tell Adam and Justin to bring you home. I'll be seeing you soon.”

Cal's eyes move to the other males in the car who are both turned around in their seats at the front of the van, watching us. Mine do as well. Adam’s face is unreadable, while Justin grins widely when he sees us looking at him. I shrink back, pressing closer to Cal.

His fingers stop sitting through my hair. His palm rests protectively against the top of my head. “On one condition,” he adds into the phone as if he's now the one in charge.

“Oh?” The man sounds intrigued and a little amused by Cal’s demand. “And what's that?”

“Nobody, fucking nobody, touches my fucking girl.”