Claimed And Marked By Her Stepbrother Mates - Chapter 262

Chapter 262: 262-Norman Is Always Irritated

Helanie:

“Emmet!” His name escaped my lips in a desperate plea. I was horrified by how he looked. His body was covered in blood, his shirt in his hand, and only his pants were intact.

He looked weak, breathing heavily and leaning against the doorframe.

I quickly glanced outside before grabbing his arm to pull him inside.

Once he was in, I laid him down on the bed and turned on the light to check on his wounds properly. He had left a blood trail when coming inside. That made me worried for him.

“No! Don’t—” he groaned in pain, placing his hand over his eyes.

He seemed too sensitive to the light, but that might have been because he’d lost so much blood.

Scratches covered his body, and then I noticed something on his neck that terrified me.

It was a bite mark—a dark, deep wound.

“Emmet, what happened? Who did this to you?” I asked, panicking as I knelt beside him on the bed. But he seemed too exhausted to respond.

I watched him stare blankly at the ceiling before slowly slipping into sleep.

It felt strange standing so close to him and seeing him shirtless. His muscles and abs were tense, and his tattooed arm was smeared with blood—his or maybe someone else’s.

“Shit! What do I do?” I muttered. I got off the bed, struggled to pull the blanket out from under him, and then covered him with it.

There was no first aid kit in the room, and when I ran to the counter to ask, the woman there told me she didn’t have one either. I was sure she just didn’t want to help—she looked tired and high on drugs.

So I came back to the room, scared. Whoever had done this to Emmet was still out there. If someone could hurt a strong man like him, I didn’t stand a chance.

Once I was back inside, I grabbed my phone and tried to think of who to call for help.

Kaye and Maximus came to mind, but I decided to call Norman instead. He was the one always ready to help his brothers, so he seemed like the best option.

As I dialed, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.

He finally picked up, and I started rambling. “Norman—he—he’s here with me. A motel—no security—he told me to let him sleep, but he was awake—and then not… I was so worried, and then—and then—” I couldn’t string a single sentence together.

“Helanie! What’s going on? Take a deep breath and tell me,” he said, his urgency clear over the phone.

“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath before starting to explain everything that had happened during our stay here in detail.

“He said he wouldn’t leave tonight,” I heard Norman mutter, though I could tell he wasn’t talking to me. Then, in a cold tone, he added, “I’m coming over there. Don’t bother him or try to wake him up. He’ll be fine.”

“But he’s lost so much blood—” I began, but Norman cut me off before I could finish.

“He’ll be fine. He’s very powerful. If you want to help him, stay away from him and don’t even think about checking outside,” he warned before abruptly hanging up.

Even though the call had ended, I nodded to myself and then went to sit on the chair.

There were moments when I desperately wanted to wake Emmet or at least check on him, but Norman had sternly told me to keep my distance.

As the minutes dragged on and turned into hours, a knock finally came at the door, filling me with hope. I’d been sick with worry about Emmet the entire time.

The moment I opened the door, Norman stormed in, forcing me to step back quickly to avoid him trampling over me like a welcome mat. He was wearing black pants and a white shirt, his sleeves rolled up. Oddly, I noticed scratches on his arms.

I shut the door while he went straight to his brother.

I moved closer but made sure not to interfere as he reached for the blanket covering Emmet. He paused, realizing I was standing right next to him.

“You can go sleep. I’ll take care of him,” he said, pointing to the chairs, clearly suggesting I put them together to make a makeshift bed.

“I can’t sleep like this! He’s hurt, and you expect me to lie down and rest?” I protested, shaking my head at the idea. Norman had brought a bag with him, so I assumed it contained medical supplies.

“Helanie, there’s nothing you can do. You’re more useful when you’re not talking or when you’re sleeping,” Norman said dismissively, waving a hand as if to shoo me away.

His tone annoyed me. “I can help him. Give me that,” I said, reaching out for the bag.

To my surprise, Norman pulled back, staring at my hand like it was something strange.

“You want to give aid to a shirtless trainer and your stepbrother?” There was a subtle hint in his eyes that he found it inappropriate.

“I gave you aid the other night,” I said, folding my arms over my chest in annoyance.

“That was aid? I thought your plan was to waste my time and let me bleed to death,” he hissed, lifting the blanket just enough to clean Emmet’s wounds. The way he did it was strange—almost like he was trying to hide Emmet’s body from me.

“Oh, so you knew what I was trying to do.” My sarcastic confession made him clench his jaw.

“It’s not easy to kill me, Helanie. You’ll need to do more than just that. Now hush and go away, blonde!” The more Norman tried to dismiss me, the more irritated I became.

“I’ll help with the bite mark,” I said, determined.

The moment I mentioned the bite mark, I saw Norman’s head snap up, his expression sharp and questioning. In that instant, it felt like he wasn’t upset about Emmet being bitten but rather about me bringing it up.