“That’s okay,’’ he tries to reassure me. “Go to the nearest window, tell me what you see.’’
Quickly, I run toward the closest window of the kitchen. It’s wide and slightly opened. I peek outside, glancing left and right.
“We’re somewhere in the forest. It’s hidden from the main road.’’
“Can you hear any cars?”
I close my eyes, moving the phone from my ear. With a deep breath, I try to strain my ears and figure out where the fuck I am. Nothing happens for a few moments, but then after what feels like an eternity, I hear a faint sound of cars in the distance.
“Yes, East from where I am.’’
“Okay, that’s perfect. Listen to me—’’
His voice gets cut off when I hear the front door of the house open. I keep the line going, tossing the phone out the window. I don’t have the time to check if it hit the grass or the concrete, only praying that the line stays open long enough for Arlo to track the call.
My eyes glance between the door of the kitchen and the passed-out Zoe, and my heart sinks to my feet. Oh, God. What are they going to do to me when they see this? Are they going to kill me immediately for taking out her eye? Are they going to start beating me until I beg for mercy?
A thick knot forms in my throat, and I can’t swallow it down. My lungs start closing in together, and it’s hard to get air in. My heart is beating uncontrollably fast, my body shaking. I stay there, by the window, frozen in place, just waiting to see what will happen.
A man comes inside, his footsteps dying out when he spots the mess.
He’s wearing all black, a wide hoodie and a matching pair of sweatpants, the hood covers his face. His hands are covered with leather gloves, and he has a pair of Dr. Martens on his feet. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t move. The only indicator of him even being alive is the way his chest moves up and down with each breath he takes, and each takes one of mine.
He doesn’t even acknowledge me, but I don’t dare move from the spot by the window. Despite the oversized hoodie, I can see the outline of four guns tucked in his pants, and given the way he moves and breathes, he definitely isn’t someone I’d want to test.
Heapproaches Zoe, putting two fingers on her pulse point on her neck. His other hand covers her missing eye, shutting that eyelid. It’s silent for a moment before he looks at me, and air leaves my lungs. It’s the first time I can clearly see his face, and relief floods my body.
There’s a big X sign on his face. Going from his left brow diagonally to the right side of his cheek, and the exact same mark going the opposite direction. It’s an old scar, in a shade lighter than his skin tone.
It’s fucking X.
He comes to my side, his body angled to hide mine from the cameras. He puts a small piece of paper in my hand, and without looking away from him, I open it. It’s a message, quick, brief, and straight to the point.
Tonight.
He takes the paper back and puts it in his pocket, then something akin to an apology flashes in his eyes. Before I can question it, he grabs me by the throat and slams me against the wall next to the window. His gloved fingers press the sides of my throat, cutting my oxygen off.
He mouths the words ‘I’m sorry’, and that’s the last thing I see before black dots start forming in my eyes. His blank, stoic expression, as the dark abyss wraps its loving arms around me, pulling me deeply inside.
Somehow, that feels like home now. I don’t fight it; instead, I allow my body to go limp, falling right into X’s arms.
NINE
Rose’s hair is sprawled all over the hospital bed. She’s snoring softly, asleep on the chair next to Aria’s bed, head lying next to Aria’s hand. I don’t think she’s let go of Aria’s hand even once since she came to the hospital, holding it as if she were holding onto dear life.
Rose came into our lives unexpectedly. She’s currently in a foster home that’s slightly better than the last one she’s been in, but still terrible. Mom offered the foster family money in exchange for silence. That way, Rose stays with us full time, but on paper, she’s with the foster family.
I know for a fact Mom and Dad will adopt her sooner or later, depending on how stubborn the girl is. And given that sheand Aria get along incredibly well, I’d say she’s as stubborn as a mule.
Softly, I shake her shoulder. “Rose?”
She mumbles something incoherent in her sleep, slowly lifting her head off the bed. Her back cracks as she straightens up, eyes hazy from sleep. “Hm?”
“Go home and sleep, I’ll be here,” I whisper, and she nods.
She kisses Aria’s hand, then slowly stumbles her way out of the hospital room, leaving the two of us alone. My eyes fall on my sister, and the pain doesn’t subside. All I’ve been able to see when I closed my eyes the past few days was the scene of Mom cradling Aria’s body to her chest, the bathtub filled with bloody water, and the tears on Dad’s face while we waited for Aria to wake up.
She’s staring out the window, and I don’t think she’s noticed that Rose left. Her wrists are wrapped in bandages that are changed daily, her hands on her lap. She’s staring, absentmindedly. There’s not a single thought behind those eyes, and the light she once had has completely dimmed.
