Need Him (BxB)

CHAPTER SIX

                                -•NATHAN•-

Presley's room was on the fourth floor, one floor below mine. My dad wanted to have a meeting with him because he said that if he hadn't met Presley, then nothing was official.

I disagreed with my dad, everything was official now. Presley had proved himself beyond what I had expected yesterday. For a second, I was convinced that it was magic, but not even magic could completely heal three gunshot wounds in two hours. By the end of the night, the entire infirmary's occupants were up and training.

Presley looked exhausted at the end of the night, Haley suggested that he should sleep but he refused and said he needed to work just a little bit more. Haley had turned to me with pleading eyes but I didn't argue with Presley's decision. The more he worked, the stronger our gang would be.

By the time Haley had eventually escorted Presley to his room, it was two in the morning, the kid was tolerant, I'd give him that.

Now, as I went down the stairs to reach his room, it was six in the morning. In the cellar, he had told me that his school started at eight, so the meeting with my father was going to have to be quick.

I hoped Presley was awake or else I was going to drag the poor kid out of bed, my dad did not like to wait, that's one thing him and I had in common.

When I reached his door, I banged on it three times with my fist. There was no answer. I huffed out a frustrated breath and knocked more loudly.

After a moment, Presley creaked open the door with wide eyes. He seemed to relax when he confirmed that it was me behind the door. I didn't blame him, after that encounter with one of the biggest fighters in the gang in the cafeteria yesterday, he was probably left shaken up.

He rubbed his eyes and let out a small yawn, then leaned against the door sleepily. "Is...is somebody hurt?," he asked groggily.

Maybe I should let him sleep. No, he didn't have time to sleep, there were things we needed to discuss.

"Get ready, you have ten minutes. My father, your actual boss wants to talk to you," I replied.

Presley's expression turned from tired to frightened. He looked ready to cry again.

"Am I in trouble?," he asked quietly.

I arched a brow. "No, unless there's something you're not telling me," I stated, looking at him skeptically.

A relived smile took over his face and he shook his head. The small dimple on his left cheek almost made me forget about the healing cut on his right cheek. I still didn't ask about where he got the cut or why his wrist looked a dangerous shade of purple, he seemed reluctant to tell me. I didn't want to waste time trying to get it out of him.

Or maybe I didn't ask him because he cried every time that subject came up and he already looked like he cried too much.

"If you're not out in nine minutes, I'm dragging you out, understand?," I asked, keeping my voice stern.

He let out a small noise of protest. "But you just said I had ten!," he exclaimed.

"It's about to be eight if you don't hurry up," I said, trying not to laugh at his frustrated expression.

"You're mean," he pouted, then he shut the door with a soft sigh.

I leaned on the wall beside his door, thinking about a way to end the K Blades once and for all. I almost laughed out loud about the absurdity of the thought but no dream was ever too big. The K Blades had already caused enough trouble and now they wanted Presley for themselves. There was no way in hell I was going to let that happen. Presley was just too talented.