Spookychild’s writings

He didn’t pull away once the phone was passed over but asked, “Lea, can you show me what happened to your hand?” 

She shook, holding out the left hand and placing it in Darren’s, glancing from him towards the front door and back again.

 “Don’t worry. He’s out cold.” Darren whispered, meeting her eyes and then examining the hand. Darren found Lea had suffered severe burns on the thumb, pointer finger, part of the middle finger, and palm. Darren kissed an uninjured portion and considered a plan. 

“He won’t be awake for a long time. I’d get you some clothes, but he is right in the doorway. So I am not in favor of risking it. Your hand needs urgent medical treatment. Blake would most likely check your mom’s house first and then your workplace. I am guessing you wanted your phone so you could call and warn her about him?”

Lea nodded, still struggling with words. 

Darren continued and asked. “That reminds me. Where is Monty?” Thinking about the dog that they had brought the first day home from the hospital. 

Hearing Monty’s name brought tears to Lea’s eyes.  “He – he died.”

“What did Blake do to him?” Darren was alert again. 

“I – Monty’s lung collapsed. I don’t know if Blake did anything to him. He was barking at a dog. Blake kicked him.” Lea explained, crying.

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