Truth be told, Jorge wasnât exactly a wild child these days. Sure he still partied when he was at one, and he wasnât boring by anyoneâs stretch, but he was kind of a home body, especially now when he had a home he lived in alone and felt relatively safe in. Being technically part of a gang, or at least affiliated meant that he still couldnât just be reckless but he wasnât looking over his shoulder or anything. So that night saw him chilling out with a joint and a book heâd pirated that he read about on some best of the year list. He was dozing off, kindle on his chest when heâd heard knocks on his door. Unsure of who the hell it could be, he grabbed a crowbar he kept nearby for safety and peeked through the hole to find Callista so he opened the door, seeing bruises and small patches of blood he couldnât from the small circle, âCali what happââ He wasnât an idiot, he could put two and two together without her saying. Heâd met her boyfriend, saw the kind of possessiveness he perceived to have over her and he just knew. âHey, donât be sorry, come in.â Carefully, he helped the girl inside and ushered her over to his small couch then kneeled in front of her, âFirst thing, do you feel like anything is broken or something serious youâd need a hospital for?â His eyes moved all over her body, scanning wildly, surveying the damage done, âIâve got a first aid kit. Iâm gonna grab it and Iâll be right back.â He got up and did just that, grabbing the kit from underneath his kitchen sink as well as a bottle of water, âDo you want to talk about it?â He asked as he offered her the bottle to the girl, his voice gentle. âLet me patch you up?âÂ
the wave of relief that crashed over callista when she saw jorgeâs face should have been more shocking than it was. somehow, he had become someone she trusted in some way, even if sheâd never say it. he was the first person that had come to her disoriented mind as she found her way out the door, ears ringing and her heart pounding in her throat. deep down, cali knew that if she would have gone to her shared apartment with suede and aggie, or to jasper, she would be facing something she wasnât ready to deal with just yet. sheâs glad that jorge doesnât finish his question because her answer would be somewhere between blubbering and a mess. his hand is like a lifeline as he leads her to the couch, keeping her mind focused on the present and not the blows that had landed too close for comfort. wide eyes focus on the man in front of her, head shaking vehemently side to side. â no hospitals. â something like a gasp is torn from her lips, one that she tries to quiet so jorge wonât hear it from the kitchen, as she shifts and all the pain sneaks up on her at once. when heâs back, cali finds herself reaching for his hand again, an attempt at staying grounded enough to be able to get out some semblance of an explanation. â he saw us together at the election party. he was talking shit about you and our friends and -â he has no fucking right to do that. iâm not his property. â she canât help the shakiness in her tone or how ridiculous it all sounds. â i know he has a temper. but i just thought -â, â she cuts herself off. sheâs ashamed to admit that it isnât the first time, that by staying silent she had been complicit. she nods at his offer to patch him up, her voice soft as her eyes find his for the first time. â thank you .â