He held the wipes out again. I took one, wiped my hands roughly. I grabbed another, and another, and another. The last one I took I used to wipe my face gingerly. The cool, wet wipe was soothing and I held it planted on my face for a moment. The taste of blood and stale saliva coated my mouth. I moved off to the side and spat it out.
I felt his gaze on my face as I climbed into the car, but I didn’t look at him. I was still wrapped in a bubble of my own personal hell for being driven to be someone, something, I didn’t recognize.
Something—that was more like it. What I’d done, diving through a dead man’s remains like he was nothing but trash, was as inhumane and almost as dark as Karson’s actions.
We drove past the van and the bloodied bodies, back toward town. I closed my eyes. I’d seen enough. I knew it was only a matter of time before what I’d seen would replay in my head and haunt me. At least, right now, part of me hoped it would. If it didn’t, I knew instinctively, I was on a slippery slope to nowhere good.
Karson was on the phone again. “Road just outside of town, four.” He hung up.
“Let me guess, another car accident?”
He didn’t answer; he didn’t need to. I placed my head back on the seat and shut my eyes again. The car was warm, andyet my body began to shiver uncontrollably. I heard the heaters click on, felt the stream of hot air caress my face and chest, but it did nothing to warm me. I replayed the night behind the dark curtain of my mind, searching for clues. The van parked between me and my car. The men getting out. Two others dressed in black, both wearing hoodies, slinking through the trees in the park across the road. I remembered now, when I took my ring off, I’d felt their energies–they were faster than a normal humans’, but I wasn’t sure if it was vampire or witch.
My eyes sprung open, I turned to Karson and spoke hesitantly, “There were two more, watching from across the road. Not humans, but I don’t know if they were witches or vampires.”
“And you only thought to tell me this now?” His voice was so brutal it sent bullets through my skull. I cringed. “Did you use your powers?”
“Yes, I had to.”
He rubbed his forehead roughly in frustration. “We can’t leave them alive, they may come for you again, they could tell others about you. What did they look like?”
“I don’t know, it was dark, I didn’t get a good look at them.”
He made another call, relaying what I’d just told him.
My head began to pound. Nausea punched me in the stomach. I swallowed hard to keep it down. I reached up to rub my aching temples.
“Pull over,” I murmured. He pulled over with a scowl. I opened the door. My legs felt like they were made of rubber. The world spun. I took a few shaky steps away and vomited. The force of it sent pain so deep through my head and chest, my vision went black for a long moment. Tears sprung to my eyes and trickled down my face. I wobbled dangerously to the side and retched again.
Karson clutched my arm and held me steady. “You have a concussion. I’m taking you to Page.”
I shook my head, swallowed down the burn in my throat and patted the tears from my face.
“I just want to go home, please.”
Chapter 75
Why?
Half an hour later, plied with enough drugs to dull the pain but not remove it, I undressed and stepped into a steaming hot shower. The water turned a vague shade of red and disappeared down the drain. Not my blood, the dead man’s. The sight unraveled my last remaining threads of strength. I put my head under the stream. The water reddened. I ran my hands through the back of my hair, furiously dragging my fingers through the knotted, bloodied tangles. More blood streamed down. I let out a whimper. Grief came like mourners to a funeral service and overwhelmed me. I leaned back against the wall, slid to the floor, tucked my head between my knees, and began to cry. We may have won the battle but, in that moment, I was defeated. The tears turned into shuddering sobs, I couldn’t stop them.
“Amelia.” Karson’s voice from outside the door snagged me back to my body. My throat was too choked to answer.
“Amelia, are you alright?” I could hear worry in his voice. The door began to open.
I didn’t want him to see me like this, curled on the shower floor. I didn’t want him to see how broken I was. I squeezedmy eyes shut. My conscious mind grappled to regain enough composure to speak. It found a thread-bare remnant.
“Don’t,” I said hoarsely, “don’t come in.”
The door stopped opening. His voice sounded husky—choked. “Just tell me, are you alright?”
I rested my head back against the hard tiles. He saved me. He killed them all, without an ounce of empathy or mercy. My throat felt thick as I answered, “Yes, I’m okay.”
There was long pause and he said, “I did what I did, for you, and I’d do it again and again, if it means keeping you safe.” There was another long moment of silence, all I could hear was water splashing down and my blood whooshing through my head, all I could feel was my heart twisting in my chest. “And whatever you are going through. You don’t have to go through it alone.”
For a moment I forgot how to breathe. Karson who doesn’t love me, came to my rescue, wanted to be there for me. I could fall into his arms. I wanted to fall into his arms. Have him hold me and tell me everything would be alright. But to what end? He still wouldn’t love me and I’d only love him harder.
I’d only break apart all over again.
