“I’m sorry,” she croaks.
“What—”
“I shouldn’t have killed him. I destroy everything. It’s all my fault,” she sobs, her words growing louder with hysteria.
Finding the body completely unmoving, the giant bloody hole in his neck still oozing, I return my attention to Valentina. She’s spirally quickly, her skin growing whiter by the minute.
I reach out, not touching her, “can I help you?”
She bites her lips, her eyes never wavering from the blood on her hands. “You should leave me. I deserve whatever happens next.”
I can’t understand what she’s saying. I can’t reconcile this woman with the one I once thought she was.
“He attacked you.” Blistering rage pumps through me at the thought.
She shrugs, her lip wobbling. “You can’t attack a slut.”
Whatever part of myself I was holding back, reserving,protecting—it detonates, exploding into a tiny million pieces.
As gently as possible, I sink to the ground next to her, wrapping my arms around her quivering frame. She instantly melts against me, her head burying into my chest as sobs wrack her body.
“Shhh.” I run my hand through her curls, unsure of where to touch her but unwilling to let her go. “No one deserves to be attacked. No one.”
My words are her undoing. She cries out, her bloody hands fisting in my shirt as she clings to me. The sun beats down on us intensely, small beads of sweat peppering my skin. But I don’t move.
I can’t fix Valentina—I wouldn’t even try. But I know without even asking: this is a pivotal moment in her life—one she’s been building up to far longer than I’ve ever known.You can’t attack a slut?It’s a vicious sentiment, one she said with such certainty, I know it’s likely a statement she’s found herself living by.
What kind of torture has she endured, allowed herself to suffer from, because she thinks she’s undeserving of safety and protection?
Without thinking about it, I press a kiss to the top of her head, pulling her tighter to my chest. Her sobs begin to quiet, her body no longer wracked with tremors.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers again.
I inhale her scent, closing my eyes. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”
And it’s the truth.
I still don’t know what happened to Jose, and maybe I never will, but I’ve come to know Valentina. She’d never hurt him—she feels guilt for hurting someone who so clearly deserves it. She’d never do something to hurt an innocent boy like Jose.
I know it my bones, without a shadow of a doubt.
“You don’t know all the horrible things I’ve done.”
It’s like she can read my mind.
I press another kiss to her head, resting my cheek there as I stare at the horizon, the sun beginning to set into a sleepy, haze-filled sky. “I don’t need to. You’ll tell me when you’re ready, and the rest doesn’t matter.”
She begins to pull away, and part of me wants to hold her tighter. I don’t, knowing space might be the one thing she needsright now. Valentina looks up at me, her eyebrows drawn as she tries to piece together something.
Finally, she says, “I don’t understand. I’m the villain—” She looks down at her hands, resting her palms up between us. “I’m covered in blood.” I know she means more than just literally, and call me crazy, butI don’t even care.
“You’ve done what you had to, to survive.”
She shakes her head. “I welcomed evil into my life.”
“You’re strong, V, stronger than anyone knows. You’ve done what no one else was willing to in order to protect yourself. So what if others see it as evil? I see it as amazing.”
Her gaze cuts to my core, but I don’t back down. Tears form on her lower lash line.
