Not her.
“Sir.” The voice grows more insistent. “We need to help her?—”
“No.” I fight to hold on to her, but a strong arm wraps around my middle, holding me back until her hand slips out of my grasp.
I shove against the restraint, needing to get to her, but the grip on me is unyielding. It doesn’t matter how much I curse or plead or fight. The hands won’t let go.
“Trouble!” I yell, pushing harder, but it’s useless.
The door falls shut as they wheel her away from me.
“They’re taking care of her,” my brother’s voice whispers into my ear as I’m tugged back, my vision blurry.
“I need to get to her! I promised her. I promised her that if she came to me, I’d save her.”
“And you did.” Chase turns me around, his serious gaze meeting mine as his hands dig into my shoulders, shaking me gently. “You brought her here. Now let the doctors help her. She’s a fighter.”
I shake my head.
She isn’t. She doesn’t want to be.
“I promised her she wouldn’t have to be.”
So many broken promises.
Another person who was hurt by my recklessness.
Another person I pushed away to protect myself.
“It should have been me.”
Not Jessica.
Me.
The sound of running water fills the room. My fingers are numb under the icy blast, but I can’t move them away.
I can’t unsee Jessica’s blood on my hands.
Your fault.
This is all your fault.
I scrub harder, my brows pulling together as I try to rub away the stickiness. Rub away the redness. Rub away the guilt.
But it’s impossible.
It’s like it’s etched into my skin.
This is all your fault.
Suddenly, the water cuts off.
“That’s enough.”
The hair at my nape raises as I slowly look up to find none other than Jenkins standing next to me, his dark eyes watching me intently.
I was so lost in my head that I didn’t even hear him come in.
