Cold and stiff from the fight and the bullet that tore through my back muscle, I ease myself up with a grunt and squint as I listen to the silence of Pidge’s home.
I was woken by something, but now that I’m awake I can’t put my finger on it.
But it’s there. I’m alert despite no immediate danger.
Rising, pain lances from my back down to my tailbone.
After rummaging through Pidge’s side table for more painkillers, I toss two in my mouth and crunch them while walking into the hallway.
The subtle sound of running water catches my attention.
Keeping an ear on it, I check in on Aerin and whatever sleep lingers vanishes the instant I see her empty bed.
Rather than call out, I creep along the hallway until I’m at the bathroom where, just under the running water and splashing, I hear her.
Soft, whimpering sobs roll out from under the door. She’s in there and she’s crying.
Comfort has never been my strong point.
Given everything that’s happened, I won’t be surprised if she hates me right now, but I have to look at her.
Just a glance to make sure she’s okay.
Grabbing the door handle, I ease it down and lean onto the door with my bare shoulder, pushing it open.
Aerin doesn’t notice me.
She stands at the sink still wearing the housecoat, but it’s fallen around her bare shoulders, gathering where it’s bunched up to her elbows.
She’s sobbing quietly while scrubbing her clean hands with blue soap that lathers up instantly.
Tears pour down her cheeks and she chokes softly, coughing.
Clouds of steam rise from the sink and fog the mirror, clinging to the streaks she must have added with swipes of her hand.
The soap lather washes off and vanishes, but she pumps more soap onto her hands and continues to scrub.
Dark bruising flares across one wrist underneath the cuff manacle still dangling from her arm, and dark fingerprints line her throat where that bastard tried to choke her.
Another six hours and they’ll be black.
I should leave her alone, but something keeps me in the doorway, one hand on the door and the other on the frame.
“Aerin?”
She flinches violently at the sound of her name and glances at me as another wave of tears well in her eyes.
They spill when she blinks and a louder, desperate sob escapes her.
“I can’t… I-I can’t get th-the blood off!”
Her hands are pristine. Not a single drop of blood remains.
I enter the bathroom and nudge the door closed behind me, then I approach her slowly like she’s a timid deer ready to bolt at the first abrupt movement.
As I walk closer, her fingers come into view and they’re as clean as her hands.
“Aerin…”
