11

"Please, Ethan. This is all I can get. It's most of it."

"You're still short by three hundred pounds."

Anthony hushed Lily, who was beginning to fuss in her pushchair.

"Ethan, please. Lily and I need to get away. This is the only way to make sure he'll never find us."

Ethan looked into Anthony's desperate eyes, and saw tears forming in them. He'd never known things to be so bad in Anthony's house that he felt the need to run away.

Almost as though he could read Ethan's mind, Anthony lifted his shirt, baring his bruised chest.

"Christ." Ethan breathed softly, taking in several darkening boot impressions on Anthony's pale skin.

"It's getting worse, Ethan. Everyone said having a baby would help him settle but it's made him worse. I'm barely sleeping, what with all the night-time feeds and early mornings. I can't let her wake him up, else I end up unconscious and she doesn't get any attention for hours."

"Why didn't you tell me things were so bad?" Ethan asked uncomfortably. "I could've-"

"I shouldn't need to ask for help!" Anthony hissed, in a rare display of anger. "Someone should have offered! When they saw me limping, or blood running from my eye, someone should have helped!"

He lowered his voice with difficulty, hushing Lily gently.

"Alright," said Ethan gently. "I'm helping now. What do you need me to do?"

Anthony took one look at his friend, and burst into tears.