“No. I’m just gonna eat in my room then go to bed. I’m pretty sure Coach is trying to kill us with all the in-n-outs we had to do today.” I don’t even wait for a response before dashing up the stairs to my room.

I’m tearing into my bag as I reach the top of the stairs. As I near my door I’m already calling Jax. It goes straight to voicemail.

“Call me when you get this . . . I’m worried,” I say as I open my door.

I lock my door before turning on the light. I scream when I see a pale Jax sitting on my bed, head in his hands. He lifts his head and gives me a weak smile.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Ja—”

I hear Logan running up the stairs.

“What’s wrong Addie?” Logan asks on the other side of my locked door.

Jax winces as he tries to get up. I hold up my hand to tell him to stay put. He doesn’t move again, but he doesn’t take his eyes off my door, either.

“Sorry, I thought I saw a spider,” I call with a false laugh.

“Thought you saw a spider?” Logan asks.

“Yeah, but it was just lint. I’m gonna jump in the shower then I’ll be down to grab some food.”

“You’re lucky the guys weren’t here. I don’t think Connor and Jax would ever let you live that down. I thought somebody was in there trying to kill you.”

I force myself to chuckle again. Logan’s steps drift away and when I can’t hear him anymore, I sigh.

“That was close,” Jax says.

Putting my hands over my face, I force myself to take deep calming breaths. “We need to tell someone,” I manage to say when I finally lower my hands.

“I have five more months left and I’m free.”

“Jax, I can’t keep lying. You could die!” I plead with him.

He attempts to stand but he’s too weak. “If you do, I’ll lose everything.” I know he’s talking about college. A new life for himself, out of his father’s shadow. “I can’t risk going into the system. The beatings aren’t as bad anymore.”

I hate that I agree with him. On some messed-up level, Wyatt has lightened up since Jax has gotten older. He’s not the easily beaten child anymore. Wyatt saves his punishments for when he can unexpectedly lash out at him. Usually with some sort of weapon to make the beating that much more severe. Jax used to suffer from the lick of Wyatt’s belt, now it’s from anything that Wyatt can find.

My anger disappears when I realize the extent of his pain. I shuffle towards him and decide not to push the subject.

“Ever heard of a cell phone?” I ask.

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jax says quietly.

“You didn’t.”

Jax raises an eyebrow.

“Okay. Fine. But in my defense, I wasn’t expecting to walk in here with you in my bed.” Jax gaze sinks to the rug. “Which brings us back to the the whole cell phone thing. Where’s your phone, Jax?”

“Left it at home. I didn’t have time to grab it this morning. I barely had time to grab my car keys.”

Forcing myself to remain calm, I ask the question I’m dreading to have answered. “What happened?”

Wincing, Jax turns around and carefully lifts his shirt. At first I think Jax’s back is covered in sparkles. Then I see the blood. Not sparkles. Glass.

“How long?” I ask, already flying towards the first aid kit I keep safely hidden at the bottom of my closet.

After the first night I found Jax, I realized that I needed to get my own first aid kit that had more to offer than a range of Band-Aids. Plus, I’m pretty sure my parents would’ve noticed if our medical supplies kept disappearing. Walking back to Jax, I attempt the one-eyebrow thing that he does so well. By Jax’s smirk, I don’t think I pulled it off.

Gripping the tweezers, threatening, I say, “I can either be really nice or I can be really rough.”

“I can just have someone else do it,” Jax bluffs.

I call his bluff. Waving my hand towards the door I say, “Go right ahead, I’ll even lend you my first aid kit.”

I know he won’t go to anyone else which will mean that he will just suffer. I’m about to say never mind when Jax lets out a big huff of air.

“Fine. This morning.”

I busy myself with the tweezers. This morning. Okay, that’s better than what I was thinking. I was thought something happened last night and that’s why he didn’t come over, because he couldn’t. At least he was safe last night. I hope. Jax sucks in a breath when I get closer to him.

“Relax, you big baby. I haven’t even touched you yet,” I say.

Different colors of bruises cover his back. The yellow ones are old, from last Monday’s punishment. Jax left his soccer ball out and Wyatt almost tripped on it. By almost, I mean he saw it out of Jax’s room and therefore he could have tripped on it in the middle of the night so he punched Jax in the back two times. There are new bruises, though. It’s Friday. I haven’t seen him since Monday night so these could be from any of the other nights.

“And these?” I ask, lightly brushing my lips to the darkest bruise on his back.

“He had to wake me up on Wednesday. Apparently, I made him late to work so when I came home from school and he was waiting for me.”

I’m afraid to ask what he used because I know it wasn’t his fist. No, Wyatt only settles for his own hands if he can’t reach anything. He wouldn’t want to damage his life-saving instruments.

“Okay, I’m gonna start pulling the glass out,” I tell Jax once I’m positive that I’ve cleaned the tweezers enough.

His whole body tenses. Not for the first time, I wish I could take his pain away. I always have to stop myself from telling my parents. The only reason I don’t is because Jax swears he will run away and give up college. He’s a senior, but he’s only sixteen since he skipped a grade before he moved to California. He has five more months until college and he’s free of Wyatt. He’s gotten full academic scholarships from the best Ivy leagues.

Connor and Logan are going to New York, Jax is still undecided. I know moving 3000 miles away from his father will be good for him, it will give him a fresh start. I can’t help my heart breaking when I think about it, though. Every time his scholarships are brought up, I have to mold into a carefree smile even though I’m dying. Five more months and Jax, the boy that I love, might be on the other side of the country. Five more months and I won’t have to picture a broken, lifeless Jax on the floor, bleeding out from the hands of his father. We can survive five more months.

It has to be enough, I can’t lose him. We’ve come so far.

I turn his face towards me so he can see how serious I am. “Every night, come here. It’s the only way I’ll know you’re safe. I can’t keep wondering if he’s—”

He lands a whisper of a kiss on my more than willing lips. “If that’s what you need, then I promise every night I’ll be here.”

I refuse to smile, not until I’m sure that he knows I’m not going to bend on this anymore. My hands shake as I prepare myself to ask something from him that I know I shouldn’t. It’s risky, any night his father could suddenly care enough to check if Jax is home, and if he does, he’ll be at my house. I shudder as I think of Wyatt finding out. I don’t care about my parents, I’ll be relieved if that happens.

“Every night Jax. I don’t care, if you’re not here, I’ll tell my parents. I won’t risk your life. I’d rather you run away.”

He squeezes my hand. “I promise.”

I kiss his shoulder blade, before getting to work. After pulling out the fifth piece of glass I murmur, “Why did you wait until now to have me take these out?”