But I can't shake the image of her backed against that wall. Her wide, terrified eyes. The way she looked at me as if I was the monster instead of them.
Little does she know… I am.
Chapter Two
The next day…
Ashland
I sit up in bed,my heart pounding, adrenaline firing through my veins. It takes a minute to reorient myself.
I'm not in the alley. I didn't just fucking witness a kidnapping I couldn't prevent.
I'm… home.
And I saved her.
I fucking saved her.
I lie back on my bed of pillows and draw in a deep breath. Closing my eyes, I can still see her, small and helpless. The worst part about being who I am and knowing what I know is that I can't retreat into a world of ignorance. I know exactly what those men were gonna do to her.
But she isn't your sister, or your cousin, or your friend. You're not related. You don't even know who the fuck she is.
I stare at the window, the blue light of early morning filtering through the sliver beneath the shade, and roll over. I need to get back to sleep. I punch the pillow and close my eyes, but as soon as I do, I see her struggling, their filthy paws on her, their…
I try to will it all away, but it's useless.
Why the fuck do I care?
I don't. I fucking don't.
I draw in a breath and try to calm down again. I don't know how or why, but for some reason, I can't. I'm fully awake now.
I don't really sleep anyway.
I reach for my phone on the bedside table to check in with Seamus and the lot, and I find myself pulling up the name of the taxi company that took her home. Scrubbing a hand across my brow, I stare at the number.
Makes sense. I want to make sure she got home safe, though, doesn't it?
Aye.
Ten minutes later, I've got her address.
Fifteen minutes later, I'm in the car, driving to her house.
I don't want tostalkthe girl… I just want to make sure she's safe.
I sit in the shadows beneath a low-hanging maple as I watch her get into the car and head to what I'm guessing is school. But before she does, I see an older woman from next door call out to her, waving a handful of mail that must've been delivered to the wrong address.
“Bianca! Dear, this came to my house by mistake.”
Bianca.
Something in my chest locks into place. Her name fits her. Delicate. Beautiful. Real.
She's not just the girl anymore. She's…Bianca.
Fuck.
