Chapter Two: My brave new friend on a wheel chair.

Nicholas’s POV

“Nicky! Nicky...” I could hear his voice faintly.

The voice was distant. Echoing. Like it was slipping through water.

“Dad! Dad! Where are you? I can’t hear you” There was no reply

 “Daddy! Please answer me” I cried out “Dad!!!”

“Nicholas! Nicholas!”

My name, soft but firm. A woman’s voice pulled me out.

I blinked. My eyes stung, heavy like they’d been shut for years.

“Nicholas,” she said again.

I turned my head slowly and saw her—my nanny. Her eyes were worried, hands gently touching my arm like I might break.

“Honey! Are you alright? Should I get your mother for you?” Nanny Tee asked, worry lining her voice.

“No! Nanny, I’m fine. I promise.”

She searched my face for a second longer, then gave a small nod and left to get the tap running. I sank back into the pillow, breathing slowly.

It was nothing.

Just a dream, Nicholas.

But when would they stop?

I’m tired. So damn tired.

Moments later, her voice called from down the hall. “Your tub is ready, Master Nicholas. Are you ready?”

I nodded.

She carried me gently to the tub since i couldn't walk. I bathed, dressed, and wheeled myself downstairs for breakfast. The smell of toast and scrambled eggs filled the room. I ate slowly, silently.

Then she walked in.

“Good morning, baby! How was your night?” my mother chirped.

I ignored her.

“Nanny, please my medications.”

I took my pills, my expression blank, just waiting for the moment I could leave. But of course, Zack had to ruin that.

Zack came downstairs and kissed my mother on the cheek. “Good morning, Mom,” he said, then walked over to me.

“Hey,” he said, stepping in front of my wheelchair and gripping my chin. “Be a nice little thing and answer Mom’s question.”

I met his eyes and gave him the coldest smile I could muster.

“Yeah, sure—I will. Right after she brings Dad back from the dead and my legs start working again.

Till then, peace off, dickhead.”

I wheeled out of the house, slamming the door behind me.

He’s always doing this—getting involved in things that don’t concern him, especially when it comes to Mom and me. He didn’t grow up with Dad for long, so I don’t expect him to understand how I feel. Honestly, I don’t expect anyone to.

Later that morning, my driver dropped me off at school, and I made my way inside.

I would’ve loved to keep a low profile, but I guess being in a wheelchair makes that kind of impossible.

As I rolled through the hallways, I heard his voice—the voice of the big, bad bully. “Move aside, bitch!” Andrew’s voice thundered down the hall.

I turned just in time to see him shove Cilia—hard. She hit the floor with a sickening thud.

My blood boiled. I didn’t hesitate.

“Hey! you son of a bitch—leave her alone!” I shouted, wheeling toward him without thinking.

I already knew how this would end. Play the hero, get torn down right after. That was always the pattern.

Andrew turned, looked at me—and laughed like I’d just told the world’s funniest joke.

“What did you just say, Nicky?” he grinned, stepping toward me, eyes gleaming.

“You heard me. I don’t like to repeat myself,” I said sharply.

He paused.

“Um! Okay. Alright.” The laughter faded. His smirk disappeared.

I knew what was coming next. I braced for it.

The punch landed across my face like a lightning bolt. My chair tipped, and I crashed to the ground, my side slamming hard against the floor. A sharp pain shot through my body, forcing a groan out of me.

As I lay there, dazed and hurting, his friends stood behind him—jeering, laughing like it was some sick joke.

Then suddenly—crack—one of them kicked me hard in the thigh.

I winced, the pain blinding, a fire spreading through my leg. I was certain that hit would complicate things for my already fragile limbs. But that was just the beginning.

“Leave him!” I heard Cilia shout from somewhere behind them.

They didn’t listen. Of course they didn’t.

One by one, they took their turns. And when they were done, they stepped aside... waiting for their leader.

Then he was over me.

He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back, dragging my ear closer to his mouth.

“You just don’t learn, do you?” he said quietly, almost like he was disappointed. “Always trying to be the hero. Too bad heroes like you don’t walk away.”

“Listen, Nicky,” he whispered coldly. “I actually pity you. Legs that don’t work. All the crap you’ve been through. I don’t enjoy doing this to you... I really don’t.” He paused.

“But you brought this on yourself. And now, you’ll live with the consequences.”

FLASH BACK

Two months ago

“Nicholas, stay here. I’ll be right back,” Zack said, disappearing into the principal’s office with a clipboard. I nodded but didn’t say anything. My fingers drummed against the armrest of my wheelchair as I took in my surroundings—new hallways, unfamiliar faces, and that sharp scent of floor polish every school seemed to have in common. The whispers had already started. A few students slowed their walk to stare, then quickly looked away when I caught them. Typical.

I was about to scroll through my phone to kill time when I heard a scream

a small, stifled yelp.

I looked up and spotted them. A girl was cornered by some students near the lockers. Her books had been thrown to the ground, her bag open and its contents scattered. She was trying to collect them, but they kept kicking things out of her reach. One of them snatched her notebook and laughed as he flipped through it.

She looked terrified.

I didn’t even think.

I wheeled toward them.

“Hey,” I called out. “Why don’t you try picking on someone who can actually fight back?”

The laughter stopped. Heads turned.

The tallest of them—blonde, smirking, clearly the ringleader—turned to face me. “And who are you? The crippled knight?”

I felt the words slap me in the face, but I didn’t flinch. I’d heard worse.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “Just leave her alone.”

The girl—petite, curly-haired, with defiance barely clinging to her teary expression—looked at me like I was either stupid or brave. Maybe both.

The guy walked toward me slowly, dragging his fingers along the lockers like he owned the school. “New kid, huh?” he said, his eyes narrowing. “And already looking for trouble.”

I didn’t respond.

He grabbed my chin tightly, forcing me to look at him. I could smell the faint trace of smoke and mint on his breath.

“I like your boldness,” he said with a sneer, “but don’t test my patience.”

Then, without warning, he shoved me out of my wheelchair. I hit the ground hard. He didn’t even look back as he walked away.

“Cilia,” he said as he turned away, “thank your stars. But I don’t think you’ll be lucky next time.”

Cilia rushed over, eyes wide. “Are you sick?” she asked, helping me back into my chair.

“Ouch. A ‘thank you’ might’ve hurt less,” I muttered, rubbing my arm.

“A ‘thank you’ from me should be the least of your worries,” she said, exasperated. “Do you have a death wish or something?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then why the hell would you do that? You just added yourself to Andrew West’s bully list!”

I shrugged, managing a crooked smile. “Well… I guess you’ve got a bully mate now.”

She stared at me, both confused and impressed. “Why are you making jokes? This is serious.”

“I know,” I said quietly. “But honestly, I don’t really care.”

She paused, then extended a hand. “I’m Cilia, by the way.”

“And what might I call my brave new friend on a wheel chair”

“Nicholas” I said

She smirked. “Nick. Yeah, that sounds right.”