Page 44 of End It All

"Sorry," I muttered. "But I can't leave you in here like this."

I worked myself into the small space and managed to get his arm over my shoulders. Once Quincy was supported, I lifted. The groan of pain from him accompanied with the popping of my muscles felt like hell, but I was still able to lift him to my surprise. I carried him out of the bathroom, his body weight hanging on me and trying to drag us down. I had no idea why I could move the giant when he felt like a solid brick wall. Maybe it was the way my heart raced that pushed me forward.

Thankfully, we made it to the bedroom in a few steps. I laid him in bed and quickly grabbed his legs before I shoved him inside. Panting, I moved fast to cover him with the blanket and tuck him underneath it. I leaned over, making sure his head was supported. A hand wrapped around my arm making me jump.

"Blake," he whispered.

"I'm right here," I said. "I'll call an ambulance."

"No," he rasped out. "Don't. Just... stay."

The fear in his eyes sent shocks through my body. I stared at him. Was that Quincy talking or the concussion he no doubt had? When I adjusted myself on the bed, his hand wrapped around my wrist, his fingers tightening until I winced. When he saw it, he loosened up a bit, but he didn't let go.

"Okay, I'll stay right here," I said. "You're fine. I mean, you're too much of an asshole to die."

Quincy laughed lightly before his eyes started to flutter closed. "Fuck you."

I smacked him. Quincy's eyes flew open, a gasp on his lips as he stared at me in shock.

"You can't go to sleep. I'm pretty sure you have a concussion and if you go to sleep again..."

"I'm fine," he said. "I'll kick your ass for that later."

"Shut up, gangster boy. That's not so threatening when you take my cock like a champ."

The laugh that spilled from his lips made the knots in my stomach loosen. Oh, he was going to be okay.

Thank God.

"What's taking so long?"I asked as I paced back and forth in the living room.

"Please sit down," Benito growled, his words in complete opposition to his tone.

"On that thing?" I asked, nodding toward the couch. "No fucking thank you."

"Can't blame him. I once sat on Quincy's couch and developed a rash on the back of my thighs," Harlow said, leaning against a wall. "In fact, it might be the same couch," he muttered.

"That's why I tried to clean it!" I exclaimed. "And then he came in and flipped shit, turned on a hot shower, and passed the hell out!"

They had both showed up at Quincy's place less than twenty minutes after I called. I knew Benito had to break several speed limits to get there that quickly, but I didn't give a damn when I saw that they showed up with a doctor. She'd headed right in, her mind only on Quincy. When I tried to join, I was promptly kicked out.

"Stop pacing," Benito said. "You're making me crazy. Come here. Drink this."

I grabbed a shot glass and threw it back before I choked and gagged. What I'd expected was whiskey or something dignified, but instead the taste of J?ger hit my tongue and I nearly doubled over.

"God, he's dramatic," Harlow said.

"I'm starting to question if he's actually a Vitale. Gin and Paolo love this stuff."

"Clearly, he can't hang," Harlow said. "Give me another. I need to calm my nerves."

How the hell they were drinking the shit was beyond me. I groaned as I was finally able to take in a breath that I didn't feel was accompanied by puke, and glared at them both. Benito threw his shot back and stared.

"What?" I grumbled.

"Our dad found you."

"Yeah," I choked out. I stared into the empty shot glass. "There's gotta be something better in the freezer."