A/N:- Trigger warning for sexual assault...
Chapter Eleven
"It didn't work!" Sam stormed into the comic store, his face flushed from the bike ride.
"What didn't work?" Edgar glanced up from behind the counter with a frown.
"Your plan to get Flick away from that-" Sam exhaled, anxiously tugging at his hair, "-that bloodsucker!"
"So you've finally decided to except the reality of the situation then, huh?" Alan arched his brow, peering over the shelf of comics he was organising.
"I know my sister and I know she's not a pushover, he must be controlling her somehow, there's no other reason why she'd run back to him after seeing him pawing at some other chick right in front of her face," Sam shook his head incredulously.
"Wait, how do you know she went back to him anyway?" Edgar asked, his brow furrowed.
"I saw him drop her home last night - they were all over each other," Sam shuddered, screwing his face up in distaste and both Edgar and Alan mirrored his expression.
Alan moved toward the door, turning the lock, flipping the sign to 'closed' while Edgar dragged Sam over to the counter. Sam watched anxiously as Edgar glanced over his shoulder toward the back of the store, seeming to be checking if the coast was clear before he crouched down, retrieving a battered shoebox from the bottom shelf of the counter.
"What's in the box?" Sam inquired curiously when Edgar set the box on the counter top, his expression grim.
"If we show you, you gotta swear that you won't even think about what you've seen in front of your sister," Edgar stated seriously.
"I don't understand," Sam frowned, confused.
"We have to face facts here Phoenix, your sister could be one of them now and if she is, then your thought's aren't safe," Alan clarified.
Sam swallowed around the lump of horror in his throat, his eyes wide and wet. "You mean, she could be a vampire?" he choked.
"It's a possibility," Edgar nodded solemnly.
"Is there some kind of sign, like can we find out for sure?" he pressed, concern for his sister mounting.
"Of course, but we'd need to get her alone, we'd need to trick her, she'd need to take the bait-" Alan shrugged, "-and if she's as attached to El-vampiro as she seems to be, it's not gonna be easy."
"I'll figure something out," Sam vowed. "So, what's in the box?"
"Can we trust you?" Edgar urged and Sam silently nodded.
Edgar glanced at his brother, his brow arched in question and Alan gave a brief nod, gesturing for him to lift the lid. Sam gasped when his eyes landed on the contents of the box, he hadn't really known what he'd expected but it definitely wasn't the four meticulously whittled stakes.
"Are those-"
"-Stakes," Alan nodded.
"What are you gonna do with those?" Sam frowned, hesitantly prodding one of the chunky wooden sticks.
"What do you think we're gonna do with them Phoenix?" Edgar scoffed.
"We're gonna kill the Lost Boys," Alan stated resolutely and Sam's stomach knotted.
~/~
Star tracked Flick as she trudged down the stairs, her hair still mussed from sleep, the over-sized t-shirt she wore creased and rumpled. Flick raised her head and their eyes met, the hostility in the room palpable. Star scowled, turning her attention back to Michael who lay across her lap, her fingers combing through his thick, feathered hair. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Flick give her the finger and she bit her tongue, biting back the stream of insults she wanted to fling at the little brat. She had something else in mind for the little bitch, she'd regret shooting her mouth off just like her boyfriend would regret unleashing his henchmen on her and Michael.
Flick disappeared back upstairs with a mug of coffee and a bowl of cereal and Star couldn't help but wish she'd trip and fall flat on her face. "Hey Mike?" Star purred, her nails lazily grazing his scalp.
"Hmmm?" he hummed, the tips of his fingers tracing patterns on her knee.
"I think your sister needs to be brought back to earth, she thinks she's untouchable. I can't stand the way she looks at me like I'm not worthy of sharing the same air as her," Star scowled.
"I'm still pissed that she sent those asshole after us. If that son of a bitch hadn't sucker punched the air out my lungs, I'd have kicked his ass," Michael seethed, his brow knitted in a frown.
Star frowned. She knew Michael liked to think he was tough and maybe he was but Star knew that when it came to a fight between him and any of the Lost Boys he'd lose. Even Marko the youngest and the smallest of the boys was dangerous. She wasn't sure what exactly they were capable of but she knew that their threats weren't empty. They might act the fool and laugh and joke but when it came down to it, there was something sinister lurking in each of them, and just the thought of finding out just how deep their darkness ran made her shudder.
That's why she knew that if she wanted to get back at them without landing Michael in the emergency room, she needed to be smart about it. She needed to hit the boys where it hurt and the perfect target was Flick. Paul was obviously obsessed with her and both Dwayne and Marko seemed to have taken her as one of their own otherwise why else would they act so alpha and protective?
Star knew that getting to Flick wouldn't be easy seen as she avoided both her and her brother like the plague these days, the hatred for the two of them clear on her face. So Star had called in a favour. Her brother and his friend Greg owed her a favour for giving them both an alibi for an armed robbery at the 7/11 the next town over and she'd decided to call it in.
She knew Flick would be meeting Paul at the boardwalk that evening, she'd heard them last night when Paul was sneaking out of her bedroom window. She'd given her brother and his friend the order to scare her, to toy with her and maybe rough her up a little.
It's nothing she didn't deserve...
"Of course you would honey," she purred, stroking his ego. "Hey, if I told you that I could piss those assholes off at the same time as bringing your sister down a few levels without us getting our hands dirty, would you agree to it?"
"Would it make you happy?" Michael asked, turning onto his back, his eyes searching her face.
"Mmhmm... and the thought of you wanting to please me makes me really want to please you..." she uttered, her voice low and husky as she brushed her hand over his crotch.
Michael sat up, sitting back on his heels and cupped her face in the palm of his hands. "I'd do anything for you Star," he crooned, drawing her into a heated kiss.
~/~
Mobs of children, teenagers and adults alike bustled up and down the old wooden walkway and Flick quickly found herself lost in the sea of bodies. She navigated the dense crowds, constantly looking over her shoulder as the feeling of being followed heightened. She'd felt something was off the minute she'd walked through the town centre and she had a feeling that she needed to be on guard, that she needed to be vigilant. It wasn't the same feeling she got when Paul was close-by and toying with her, she didn't think it was any of the other boys either. This was something sinister, something wrong.
She meandered by the amusement park, debating whether she should venture inside and mill around or wait by the pier. Paul hadn't specified a place to meet, he'd only assured her that he'd find her and so far she'd never been able to hide from him for longer than a few minutes. She'd just made the executive decision to head into the amusement park when once again, out of the blue the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and a shiver like an ice-cold finger crept down her spine. Flick spun around, scanning the crowds but she couldn't find anything out of place. It was as if her instincts were warning her of danger lurking somewhere close-by but due to the sheer volume of people milling around her, she had no idea which direction the threat was coming from.
"Felicity..." an unfamiliar sinister voice spoke from behind her and her blood turned to ice.
Flick spun around so fast that she wavered unsteadily on her feet, her equilibrium knocked way off kilter and she had to hold out her arms to steady herself. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest at the same time a thin sheen of sweat broke out on her brow.
Where the hell was Paul?
It was at that moment that Flick wished she had some way of communicating with either Paul or the other boys but life was never that simple, was it? The voice in her head screamed at her to run and run fast but her legs didn't want to co-operate, a morbid sense of fear rendering her frozen in place.
"Here kitty, kitty," another unfamiliar voice sneered and Flick's skin felt as though it was about to crawl right off her bones.
Whoever it was had to be close, she just had no idea where due to the throng of bodies acting as a perfect camouflage. Furthermore, along with not knowing which direction the voices were coming from, she didn't know who they belonged to either. All she did know was that whoever it was, wasn't coming in peace and somehow they knew her name. In her peripheral, Flick spotted a flash of movement by a group of giggling teenagers, leaving her heart in her mouth when two nameless men stepped forward, their faces alight in psychotic grins. The taller of the duo with a dirty green mohawk pointed in her direction before running his finger across his throat while his friend stood by and laughed.
Despite the cloud of confusion fogging her mind, she was finally able to regain control of her limbs and broke into a dead sprint in the opposite direction, the sound of feet scuffing on wooden boards sounded behind her as she weaved and shouldered her way through the masses.
In her panicked state, Flick found herself outside a run-down shower block and without giving it much thought, she kicked open the red painted door, the splintered wood cracking and popping as it swung open on rusting hinges. Glancing over her shoulder she spotted the dirty green mohawk bobbing amongst the crowds and giving herself a chance at shaking the unknown assailants off, she stepped inside, slamming the door behind her and frantically scrabbled to slide the wonky lock in place. Swallowing the lump of unease lodged in the back of her throat, Flick surveyed her surroundings with a grimace. The walls were covered in cracked turquoise tile, the once white sealant holding them in place dotted with black mould. There was a wooden bench built into the far corner beside a full-length mirror before the floor dipped down into the basin of the shower itself, the drain clumped with tangles of hair and soap scum.
"Think, think, think," Flick exhaled, fisting her hair. She was about to admit defeat and resign herself to being stuck in the dankhole until Paul eventually found her when out of the corner of her eye she spotted something glittering on the wall above the bench. She walked toward the bench and her heart pounded – a window.
The window was much like everything else around her, cracked and distorted but most importantly, big enough for someone to crawl through. She could sneak out of the window and double back up the boardwalk giving her a better chance of out-running whoever was after her. With a burst of energy fuelled by adrenaline, Flick clambered up onto the bench, cringing when the rickety structure creaked and bowed under her weight. Glancing back at the shower room door, assuring herself it was still firmly locked, she cautiously reached to unhook the window's rusting latch.
Flick pushed against the rotting frame and began to feel a bubble of panic build in her chest when the window stayed firmly wedged in place, the wooden frame warped with age and water damage. "Shit, shit, shit..." she whispered, closing her eyes as a wave of helplessness washed over her. However, unwilling to concede defeat on the first attempt, Flick once again pushed against the window, this time with a little more force and almost cried in triumph when the rotting wood gave way and the window swung open with a sad creak.
"Little piggy, little piggy, please let me in..." the same sinister voice as before called from the other side of the door and Flick's stomach dropped to her knees. With the sound of fists hammering on the door and knowing that the old wood could give out at any moment, she hiked herself up onto the ledge of the window, momentarily stopping to catch her breath. Manoeuvring herself into the best position to drop without causing herself mobility debilitating injury, Flick let her legs dangle over the edge before bracing herself for the impact of the inevitable fall. She relented her grip of the window's ledge and let herself drop, landing awkwardly on the springy wooden boards, stumbling slightly before she took off at a dead sprint towards the boardwalks exit.
"We've got ourselves a runner," an amused voice sounded from behind her and Flick's hope started to dwindle.
She could only hope that Paul caught up with her before whoever was behind her did...
~/~
Flick internally cursed herself when she found herself in a derelict, run-down part of town. In her haste to flee her attackers, she'd ended up losing her bearings and managed to get herself lost, leaving her disorientated and gasping for breath. She didn't really know her way around town to start with, it had been a long time since they'd visited and even then it was only ever the town centre or boardwalk they ventured to and in her fear addled state she'd been practically sprinting blind, unable to navigate her way to safety. Rather she'd plummeted herself right back into the arms of danger.
"Idiot," she panted, bracing her hands on her knees as she tried and failed to get her breathing under control. Her lungs burned with every ragged breath and the muscles in her legs were so overloaded with lactic acid that they'd begun to cramp and ache. She looked around her, finding herself surrounded by the skeletons of failed businesses and the sad, desolate boarded windows of once quaint and now vandalised town houses. A faint muffled shuffling sound coming from somewhere nearby had her head snapping up, her eyes tracking the burnt out remains of an old soda shop.
"Felicity..." the breeze whispered her name and a trickle of fear like the ice-cold finger of death ran down the length of her spine. She spun in a frantic circle, looking for anything out of place, for anyone hiding in the shadows but even with the florescent glow of the streetlights, she couldn't make out anything other than her own shadow and the ghosts of the towns past.
A low, sly chuckle resounded in her ears and the acrid hint of bile begun to build at the back of her throat as she looked for a way out. Her heart was pounding so hard that it was almost deafening in her ears, the sound of her own blood pulsing through her veins enough to knock her off kilter. She was exposed, out in the open, a lame Gazelle isolated and primed for the kill as hungry, salivating lions lay in wait just out of sight.
Flick resigned herself to the fact that she could stand there and just accept the fact that she was going to be caught, or she could run and likely be caught anyway but at least if she ran, she'd thought of her life as worth more than laying down in the proverbial road and waiting for the four-wheeler to run her over.
She chose the second option.
She screamed when a rough pair of hands grabbed her out of nowhere and sent her rocketing into the crumbling wall of the closest building. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" the man with the dirty green mohawk grinned. "Star didn't tell us what a pretty little thing you are," he smirked.
Star? Had that bitch set her up?
Paul where the fuck are you...
"Seems such a shame to waste an ass as fine as this, don't you think Greg?" his friend grinned wickedly.
"Such a shame..." Greg agreed, further closing the space between them. He was so close she could feel his hot, sour breath on her face, triggering her urge to vomit. The stench of stale sweat, cigarettes and liquor bore down on her as he pressed himself against her, his hip pinning her to the wall as his hands started to salaciously trail up her thigh.
Flick's stomach roiled. She was finding it hard to breath as a rush of adrenaline flooded her body, making her skin feel hot and flushed. With courage and strength she didn't know she possessed, Flick swung her arm out, the palm of her hand striking the man's cheek with a thunderous slap. Taking advantage of his momentary shock, Flick brought her knee up, slamming it into his crotch as hard as she could and made a run for a set of steps that she could see led down onto a road. Where the road led she had no idea but the idea of flagging down a passing car seemed to trump any seeds of doubt.
"Get back here you little bitch!"
Flick had just managed to reach the top of the stairs when a pair of unseen hands shoved her hard, the forceful blow to her kidneys setting her nerves on fire with white hot pain. She screamed as she felt herself lose her balance and with nothing to grab onto, her body tumbled forward, crashing and slamming against each gravelly, stone step. Footsteps echoed behind her as she hit the foot of the steps with a groan, every bone in her body singing an ode to a painful torment. Her head spun as she peered into the distance, feeling tears pool in her eyes when she realised the steps didn't lead to a road afterall, they actually led to a deserted footpath which seemed to lead into the woods bordering the run-down area. Flick whimpered as she tried to crawl away from the approaching attackers but she couldn't quite get her body to co-operate.
A heavy weight pressed down against her back and Flick whimpered, unable to scream due to the fact she'd had the wind knocked out of her from the graceless fall. "You little bitch, we tried to play nice, you could have had it so good but no, you obviously wanna find out just how cruel we can be..." a malicious voice snarled against her ear.
Flicks pleas became un-intelligible through her tears as the man above her aggressively nudged her feet apart with the toes of her boots. Her stomach violently roiled when she felt his fingers trailing up her inner thigh, cursing herself for choosing to wear a dress rather than a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She whimpered, pleading ardently for him to stop as tears streamed down her bruised face. She could feel something warm and wet trickle from beneath her hair and she knew from the sharp sting that followed, that she'd took a nasty hit to the head.
"Quit your crying-" the man hissed, ripping off her underwear, "-you asked for this," he added, his fingers tracing her bare apex. Her whimpers morphed into a terrified yelp when he kicked her legs out further, his hand braced on the back of her head, grinding her jaw into the gravelly floor.
Flick screwed her eyes shut tight, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood as she tried to force herself into a mental escape from reality but she couldn't do it. All she could feel was the fear turning her blood to ice and the pain of her throbbing face and body. His fingers plunged inside her and the sound of her strident screams ran shrill in the quiet of the night, her agonised wails spurring on his cruel torment as he thrust his fingers further, clearly enjoying the way she squirmed beneath his touch.
~/~
A searing pain ripped through Paul's chest and he growled in discomfort. The drained corpse he was holding slipped from his hands as he doubled over, his hands braced on his knee's as he fought through the agonising pain tearing his insides apart. "Hey man, are you OK?" Marko asked, his blood splattered boots coming into view as Paul's vision blurred.
"I don't know," he panted, clutching his chest as he struggled to straighten himself out.
Something was wrong, he could feel it in every nerve of his body.
"Good news is you aren't having a heart attack-" David stated, "-and it isn't likely to be indigestion."
Paul huffed a laugh, trying to shake off the feeling of dread he could feel creeping over him. "Thanks for those pearls of wisdom Doc," Paul joked, rubbing his sternum.
"Anytime," David smirked, tossing what looked like someone's spleen to the floor.
"Paul help me!" Flick's scream reverberated in his mind and he froze.
"What is it?" Dwayne frowned, shaking Paul's shoulder.
"Flick-" he murmured, "-I gotta go," he panicked scrambling for his bike.
~/~
Knowing she had no choice but to fight, Flick pushed past the pain flooding her body in white hot waves and managed to release her head from his grip, snapping it back in one sharp jolt, the back of her head hitting something hard with a loud crunch. "Fuck!" the man on top of her hissed as she managed to wriggle out from beneath him, desperately scrabbling to her feet.
Greg grabbed her arm, yanking her back towards him and Flick flailed, screaming as she kicked out, managing to land a solid blow to his inner thigh. She yanked to free her arm, sprinting as fast as her aching, bruised legs would carry her towards the woods. "Paul!" she screamed into the night, naively hoping that he'd be somewhere near. She needed him, she didn't know how much fight she had left, everything hurt so much. She stumbled over unearthed tree roots, whimpering when low hanging tree branches and jutting thorns tore at her bare arms and legs and sharp currents of pain ran full circuit through her body when she stumbled on jagged rocked, shredding the soles of her feet. She must have lost her shoes at some point during the fall.
"Paul help me!" she screamed until her lungs burned.
"There's no one here to help you baby girl," a sly voice came from behind her and she spun around, coming face to face with Greg's friend, his nose streaming crimson, the blood bleeding into his mouth leaving his crooked smile warped and even more sinister. Flick frantically searched the ground for anything that she could use as a weapon but it was too dark to make out anything more than a random twig or scattered leaves. "Now where were we?" he snarled, pouncing on her and knocked her onto her back.
Flick yelped in pain when she hit the ground the back of her head striking something solid as stars danced in front of her eyes. Her arms were pinned against the cold, damp ground, the fight within her all but extinguished, replaced by an all-consuming feeling of helplessness and despair. All she could feel was the pain. Flick sobbed, an invisible rock lodging itself in the pit of her stomach when she felt something hard press between her legs. Where are you Paul? her mind screamed as she watched the man fumble to unbuckle his belt, his hand pinning her own over her head, leaving her powerless to stop what he planned to do next. "I'm gonna fucking destroy you bitch," he snarled, hiking up her dress.
Flick's vision blurred with tears, her heart racing so hard she felt as though it would give out from the strain. Her head was spinning, the tree's surrounding her seeming to dance in jaunty circles around her head. She turned her face, the sight of the man's face looming over her was making her want to vomit. As her hot cheek met the cool foliage, she noticed a flash of blonde in the shadows and her heart soared with hope. "Paul?" she whimpered frantically, praying she wasn't merely hallucinating.
"Shut the fuck up bitch," the man hissed, striking her cheek hard as he fumbled between her legs.
"Close your eyes," a familiar voice whispered and Flick sobbed in relief, heeding the request. Seconds later the sickening sound of splintered bone, torn tissue and ripped cartilage flooded her ears as a spray of something warm and wet hit her face. Flick whimpered, unable to stifle the sobs that built in her chest when the heavy weight above her lifted followed by the sound of something heavy thudding against the floor. A strong pair of arms slid beneath her battered body and she screamed in pain when every bone in her body seemed to shriek in protest of the movement. "Shit, I'm sorry babe," the same familiar voice whispered, cradling her broken body against a warm, solid chest.
~/~
Paul had never experienced such intense, soul crushing fear in his life as he did the moment he heard Flicks terrified screams calling for him. If he had blood flowing through his veins it would have turned to ice and if he had a beating heart it would have slammed to a juddering, jarring halt in his chest. He felt like the ground was about to be swept out from beneath his feet. He'd caught the first of the men a few feet into the forest, mercilessly ripping his head off his shoulders in a surge of unfathomable rage before he had the chance to register what was happening.
He'd managed to track Flick down by following her scent and the sound of her screams, the blood that had only moments ago tasted so good now wavered unfavourably at the back of his throat, the hint of copper making his stomach churn when he found her pinned beneath a poor excuse for a man. Paul might've been known as a bit of a sleaze, always chasing ass and flirting with anything with a pair of tits but he'd never even consider forcing himself on a woman. The look of hopeless sorrow on Flicks face had almost broken him, the tortured look in her eyes enough to drive him to his knees and plead for her forgiveness for leaving her alone. It was all his fault. Guilt ate away at him, shredding and twisting his organs as he cursed himself and the uncontrollable darkness within him. He'd told Flick to close her eyes, purely because she'd been through enough torture for one night and he didn't think watching him decapitate someone would be on the top of her lists of things she wanted to see. He knew she had a weak stomach when it came to gore and the last thing he wanted to do was cause her any further distress.
When he'd lifted her into his arms, her screams of agony made his chest ache. He'd never been much of an emphatic man but he could feel her pain and misery like it was him himself experiencing it. Paul cautiously carried her back to his ride, frowning when he noticed she'd promptly passed out. He carefully balanced her between his legs, cradling her head against his shoulder as he cautiously kick-started his bike and made his way back to the cave, panicking that she'd slip out of his grip and end up road kill.
Paul dropped down into the cavern, gently setting her down on the couch before making his way over to the alcove to rummage through the boxes of old shit in search of a first-aid kit.
"Paul?" he heard Flick sob and jogged to her side, dusty box of first-aid material in hand.
"I'm here babe," he assured her, kneeling by the couch. His eyes drifted over her face, her soft, beautiful features shrouded by angry bruises, one side of her jaw streaked with blood. Looking over her injuries he wasn't sure where he should start, seeing her in such a state was making him feel uneasy, his chest felt tight and his stomach felt unsettled, like he was moments away from vomiting rocks. "This is all my fault-" he frowned guiltily, "I never should have told you to go to the boardwalk alone…"
"It's not your fault Paul," she smiled weakly, stroking his cheek with trembling fingers.
"It hurts babe," he whispered, confused by all the new emotions he was experiencing.
"What hurts?" she frowned, confused, seeming to be looking him over for injury. She had such a fucking sweet heart, there she was, laying broken and in agony yet she was more concerned about him… he didn't deserve her.
"Seeing you like this," he clarified and Flicks eyes flickered.
"You really do love me…"
"I told you I love you Flick and I meant it, you mean everything to me," Paul urged feeling unnaturally and uncomfortably vulnerable.
"I love you too," she smiled, tracing his jaw with the pad of her thumb. Paul exhaled, lightly resting his forehead against her brow, his lips ghosting her bruised skin as he silently wished he could take her pain away.
~/~
Paul grimaced as the sound of vomit splattered against the sides of the bucket he'd placed beside the bed and reached out, smoothing slow circles across Flicks back as she retched, the strained sounds interspersed with her sobs. He didn't know what to do, he'd never been in this position before and he wasn't sure what the protocol was. He didn't know how he could comfort her if it didn't involve physical action. He couldn't hold her the way he wanted on account of the fact she was in pain, plus there was the risk he'd end up with the contents of her stomach all over him. Each time she whimpered in pain, his chest would ache, the invisible rock lodged between the gnarled knots of his intestines growing bigger.
He hopped to his feet when the sound of approaching motorcycles rumbled overhead, followed moments later by the sound of footsteps on the incline. "What fucking took you so long?" he hissed as his three pack brother's filed into the cavern.
"Why are you acting like such a drama queen?" David scoffed.
"Is that blood?" Marko sniffed the air, his eyes flickering amber.
"Flicks blood?" Dwayne frowned. "What did you do?" he ran his hand through his hair.
"Don't fucking look at me like that you asshole, you know I would never hurt her-" Paul yelled, "-two guys fucked her up, I found her just as one of them was about to..." he couldn't finish the sentence, just the thought of what would have happened if he didn't find her in time making his skin itch and his fangs ache.
"About to what?" David arched his brow, his eyes flickering with anger.
"Rape her," Paul whispered, grimacing when the sound of Flicks sobs heightened, the harrowing noise interspersed with splatters of vomit.
"Holy shit-" Marko's eyes widened.
"-Did you-" Dwayne started but Paul knew what he was about to say.
"-Yeah but I didn't have time to clean up," he grimaced, fisting his hair.
"Where are they? I'll do it," David offered taking Paul by surprise, he'd honestly been expecting a bollocking.
"On the outskirts of town, by those old burnt out houses," Paul swallowed.
"Alright – Marko, let's go," he ordered. Marko gave Paul a fleeting look of sympathy before following David out of the cave.
"Is she hurt?" Dwayne inquired, his eyes drifting to the drapes drawn around the bed.
Paul nodded. "I found a first-aid kit but I don't really know what to do..." he admitted awkwardly.
Dwayne exhaled, removing his jacket. "Want some help?" he offered.
"Thanks man," Paul smiled gratefully.
"Grab me some damp washcloths," he ordered as he disappeared behind the drapes.
"Hey little sister," Dwayne spoke lowly, eliciting a hitching sob as Flick murmured something unintelligible.
"Shit..." Paul sighed, making his way to the bathroom.