I barely registered as he slammed the cup before him against the wall next to me. Pain flashed across my face, and I feltsomething warm drip down. One of the shards had hit me, and I didn’t know how bad it was. All that mattered was the way this man, who had come to mean more to me than I thought possible, was coming undone in a way that was so much like before and yet so different.
His eyes fell on me, and I realized it was the mark on my face he was staring at before his expression collapsed in horror. He spun and kicked the large table, the one Reggie had had replaced after his last meltdown, and then...everything descended into chaos.
“You aren’t her!” he bellowed as he grabbed an open cabinet and yanked it off the wall with a squeal of the hinges and hurled it away. “She isn’t you.”
“Clay!” I cried, sensing everything had already spun out of my control. I looked at the panel on the wall. There was an emergency button on the home screen that I could hit, and everyone important, everyone who might be able to help, would come running.
God, did I dare call in outside help?
“You’re not,” he whispered, and I couldn’t help but flinch when he reached for me. His horrified expression didn’t fall when he saw my reaction. “It’s not you...it’s me.”
“No,” I whispered, stepping closer, but cried out when I was flung away. I hit the bed, and despite the soft landing, I still cried out in surprise and horror. “Clay!”
I pushed upright in an awkward scramble and saw him huddled on the floor, weeping in a way he hadn’t even when he’d told me about his family. I could only stare at him in confusion, wondering what he was doing, until I saw the jagged piece of ceramic in his hand.
“Quiet,” he whispered. “Freedom. I’m sorry, all of you, I’m?—”
“Clay, no!” I screamed, but it was too late. The jagged piece flashed, and his tanned skin was replaced by a red line that leaked crimson immediately.
I dove forward as he stared at his forearm, which was bleeding, and tried to yank him back.
I forgot how strong he was, and I flew through the air, landing in a heap on the floor next to the door. Even confusion wasn’t enough to stop me, and I leapt up as the piece hit the floor and he groped for it. I was on my feet before I realized what I was doing, and I started hammering the emergency button on the display, as if hitting it harder and faster would make them show up quicker.
But it wasn’t enough, and his hand closed over the piece, snatching it up and raising it again.
He couldn’t hear me, I couldn’t reach him, and I just?—
I dove forward as he hunched. His grunt was furious, but distracted, trying to make me get off him, but focused on his goal. I had no hope of stopping him by force; he had built himself for strength, and I had built myself for beauty. I could no more pull his hand away than I could break a stone with my bare hands.
“Oh God,” I cried out as my legs wrapped around his middle and my arm did what I had been taught long ago. It was supposed to be for my protection, but now it could only be for his, and I wrapped it around his throat, my other coming up to hold it in place.
He had only a moment to let out a gasp, wet and strangled, and I pulled tighter because I knew if he could make noise, he could breathe. I held tight, ignoring the way he thrashed, first to throw me off so he could complete the job, and then when his body resisted the death it feared was coming.
Oh fuck, please don’t let me kill him.
I gripped tighter and held on, even when he left the shard of ceramic on the ground to reach up and grasp at me. I leaned back, holding tighter because deep down I knew he couldn’t stop me if he didn’t have the oxygen to fight. My face stung as the tears flowed, ignoring the way his fingers scraped at my scalp as he tried to get hold of me, but never found the grip.
I didn’t let go, even when his fighting grew weaker, some horrified but determined part of me knowing he had to stop completely or he would kill himself. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t be conscious, he couldn’t be allowed to?—
“Isaac, Isaac! Stop!” a voice screeched in my ear, and I wailed as I was pulled back and thrown to the floor.
“Please, he…” I began, but the tears streaming down my face took over, and I cried out, horrified by what had happened, terrified by what he’d almost done, and scared of what I’d done. “Please!”
“I’ve got you,” Luka said...it was Luka. “It’s okay, he’s okay, you’re okay. We’ve got this.”
They had to because I couldn’t, I wasn’t able, I wasn’t strong enough.
“You did good,” I heard him whisper in my ear, and the last of my strength left me as I sobbed.
Please, oh please, let him be okay, now and forever.
