“I’m fine.” I said, as he studied me. Thinking back to what Nathan said about him liking me, I stepped back, smiling at him. “I’m just tired.” I didn’t want to give the idea that I might like him too.

“Yeah, you don’t feel hot,” he said, assessing me.

“I just need some food and a good night’s rest,” I said. “Thanks for the concern.” I tried to smile.

“Yeah, it’s been a long night. If you need anything, I can examine you, or we can run some tests,” he said, still looking a little worried.

I nodded my head, thanking him as I finished up my notes, rushing to get my stuff and leave. As soon as I jumped into my car. I dialed Nathan, knowing he was still probably at home. It went straight to voicemail, and then I knew something was wrong. I tried Callum and Aiden as I drove to their house. My panic increased the closer I got to their house, I was really hoping I was making a big deal for no reason. Finally, I arrived at the house, seeing all of their cars in front. I was relieved, but not enough, because why hadn’t anyone called me back? I opened the front door and heard yelling as the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

“We can’t take him to the hospital, you know the drill.” Callum snarled.

“They fucked his hand up. We can’t fix that shit here.” Aiden growled.

“Guys, I think at this point we just need to see if anyone can see him in town will be discreet.” The third voice was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I walked into the house, finding Aiden, Callum and Evan standing in the living room. I glanced at Nathan, realizing he was on the sofa.

“What the fuck happened?!” I yelled, rushing to Nathan. He looked like he had been beaten. His face looked swollen, with a busted lip, and he had dried blood coming down his nose. That’s when I noticed his hand that was lying on his chest. It looked like someone had stepped on it, flattening his pinky and ring finger, making them look unnatural. He looked to be passed out, and I was worried because he could have had a concussion.

“Jesus, Jane, what the hell are you doing here?” Callum looked surprised.

“What do you mean, what am I doing here?” I glared at him. “It’s eight-thirty in the fucking morning, and no has answered my texts or calls. I came over, worried that something had happened, and I’m glad I did.” I wanted to run my hands through his hair, but I didn’t know the extent of his injuries. “What the fuck happened?”