“You, Eve.” He smiled, and I cringed. “I love you, and you love me. We can become physically close again. It’ll take away the pesky layers of distance you’ve put between us.”
I shook my head. “No—no. I don’t want that.”
"You act as if I've never seen you naked before,” he muttered with mock amusement.
I turned my head toward the open door. Flynn was out there. If only I could find a way to get his attention.
Gerald clicked his tongue. “Ah, that’s right. The other guy. That’s why you don’t want me. Don’t worry. I’ll make you forget all about him.”
Panic closed an ice-cold hand around my throat, and every instinct told me to get the hell out of there. I squeezed my eyes shut before they popped open and I braced myself to run—but I was too late.
He launched himself on top of me, and I let out a muffled scream before he slapped his stubby fingers over my mouth. “Shut the fuck up, you bitch!”
I flinched before seeing red. He wouldn’t do this to me. I wouldn’t give into him. I thrashed underneath him, attempting to knee him off me, but he had me pinned to the bed with no way of moving. I shook uncontrollably as his coarse whisky tongue licked at the skin on my neck.
“No!” I cried out, but it was silenced as his hands tightened around my throat. A searing jolt of pain radiated through me, and I pleaded with the universe to send someone to help.
Not a second later, by the grace of God, Gerald was pulled off me and thrown to the ground. Flynn was on top of him, throwing punches that landed with an audible crunch. His fists were thrown full force into Gerald’s face, gut, and arms that tried blocking the hits.
There was a cold burning to Flynn’s rage, an ice that shocked me to my core. I’d never seen that look in his eyes; blood thirsty. Gerald went limp, arms dropping, but Flynn didn’t stop. He pounded his bloodied knuckles into his face with no sign of stopping.
“Flynn,” I croaked. “He’s unconscious. Stop.”
Flynn’s arms froze mid-air before he landed one last punch to his face. He pushed himself off Gerald and onto the floor. It was as if he’d gone into a state of shock. He sat there, unmoving, staring at the wall. I trailed my eyes down his body and noticed he hadn’t been wearing his prosthetic. I’d never seen him without it, but it didn’t matter. He’d protected me.
Bile burned my throat at the thought of what would’ve happened if he hadn’t intervened. The room turned into a blur. My chin trembled as tears rolled down my face.
Deputies burst into my room, flashlights moving as they took in the situation. I sighed in relief before they grabbed Flynn. Flynn’s body jerked as they lifted him off the ground.
My eyes widened. “No! Not him. He saved me! Please, don’t.”
Flynn’s body twisted as he tried to jerk out of their hold but they managed to get a grip on him and drag him out of the room with me screaming after them. Another deputy started to talk to me but my gaze fell on Gerald. He was a bloody mess on the floor. His eyes were already swollen and bloody spit drooled from his slack jaw.
He was as revolting as he was on the inside. With a wrinkled nose I turned to the deputy talking to me as EMS took Gerald away.
“He broke in. Flynn protected me,” I mumbled over and over again. I felt like a record on repeat, and my mind was a fog. I couldn’t comprehend anything the deputy was saying. All I knew was that I needed Flynn.
Plumes of black smoke and dust came from where the bombs had gone off far underground. A series of flashes broke out to my left, lifting and spreading the incandescent radioactive gasses before a gush of flames rose into the sky. Gunshots came thick like winter hail from the right. The tin projectiles cut through the air. Each bullet ripped into something, be it inanimate or living, spilling tree sap or blood.
My stomach lurched as my dream ended, and I was shaken back into reality. My eyes shot open, and I blinked, the blurriness faded, and my surroundings became crisp. My body was bathed in a cold sweat. The unfamiliar thin sheets were twisted around my limbs, probably because I thrashed in my sleep. My heart pounded as the remnants of my night terror clung to my mind.
I let out an exasperated sigh, groaning as I rolled myself to sit on the edge of the shitty cot I’d been lying on for God knows how long. What time was it? How long had I been asleep? Where the fuck was my prosthetic? I rubbed what remained of my leg finding it to be sore to the touch.
The coldness of the air was more apparent as I regained my senses. The fluorescent lights above flickered as I took in my surroundings. I was in a fucking jail cell. Nothing but four walls and a mattress, everything a depressing shade of grey—and my head throbbed like a mother fucker. The pain felt like someone had taken a knife to my skull. I leant my head against my hands. Squeezing my eyes shut, I willed the pain to go away. Now wasn’t the time to get a migraine, though I got them after every PTSD plagued dream.
A loud bang on the door made me wince as I glanced over at it. Disembodied eyes peeped through the small window, a rectangle of glass situated in the steel door.
“Why the fuck am I here?” My voice echoed off the walls, penetrating my skull.
The guy chuckled, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe I’d asked. “You sent some guy to the hospital.”
My brows furrowed as I tried to remember but the pulsating in my brain didn’t let me remember shit.
“You’re lookin’ at attempted murder and assault first degree.”
I gripped my head. “The only thing I remember is being at Evelyn’s. Is she okay?”
“The woman you were with? Yeah. She’s fine. Shaken up, but I don’t even know the story. Someone’ll be in to talk to you soon.”
