What happens when a finger painting prodigy hitches a ride from a disfigured biker? Why chaos of course!
Quirky, oddball Georgie is anything but normal. For years she hasn't only suffered from a lack of filter but she also has "episodes." She can't...
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"So, you need help and the person you come to is the one who had a complete mental breakdown only weeks ago?"
He shuffles and does his best to hold this barely conscious guy up. As my eyes adjust from light to dark I see bruises and blood covering his face, shirt, cut, and pants. "I need your help and to make sure you stay safe."
When I take him in, his serious expression and his body, everything I had been going through falls away. The depression is forgotten and my nerves come back. "What's the password?"
Adonis lifts a brow and catches on immediately. "Seriously?! Right now, Tater Tot?!"
"Password," I say crossing my arms over my chest.
Adonis shifts the guy up and I can tell he's struggling holding him up with each passing second. "How about the promise to tell you later."
I tap my chin. "Depends, are you a man of your word?"
"For God's sake, Georgie."
"Fine, but I'm holding you to that promise and you know I won't stop until I get it. I'll annoy it out of you."
"Is your dad home?" he questions, ignoring my tirade.
"No, but Amber is, so be quiet when you go in."
"That's fine." He grumbles as he lifts the guy up who keeps sliding down. "She'll find out soon enough."
"I feel like I just entered an episode of Riverdale," I say as I make my way over to them to help with this load....
LOAD OF GARBAGE!!!!
"He's with the Silencers?!" I hiss out in full on rage, whipping away so fast my head spins.
Adonis gives a frustrated growl. "I'll explain everything, but first help me get him in the house."
"Oh, absolutely not!" I snap. "There's no way."
"Georgie, please." Adonis's voice startles me and something about the anger and desperation soaking his tone makes me move.
"Fine, but if he gains a few added injuries while staying at my house, you can't get mad at me for it."
There's a deep chuckle that's eerily familiar. "I knew I'd like her."
We awkwardly make our way into the kitchen and get him in the kitchen table chair as he grunts in pain, resting his back against the wall. The guy has been beaten badly. There's blood running down his face that is so swollen and heavily damaged, I have no idea what kind of appearance he has. He's just as big as Adonis and looks like he'd been struck by a car then pounded on and left for dead.
The clacking of something hitting the table gains my attention and Adonis pulls out all sorts of first aid supplies I didn't even know we had. As he gets to work mending this Silencer dude, I decide to grab both of them some extra clothes from dad's room.
