Would she, though? If it came down to her life? Or did she only reap souls of those she’d been assigned to?
Fuck it.
I pushed off the wall and shoved my way into the bathroom. Two steps in, I froze. The door swung shut behind me, the sound muffled as I stared down at the sight before me.
Grace sat in a ball on the floor, her back pressed to the dirty tile behind her. And her eyes were…blank. No tears, no redness or sniffling or wet cheeks. She looked…empty.
My chest pinched, a bite of pain working its waythrough my body. She was hurting, and I’d been the one to bury the blade in her.
I crossed the small space and took a seat beside her, bending one knee to my chest. I looked at the side of her face, mentally scrambling through a thousand things I could say.
It wasn’t often I was rendered speechless. Usually, I either had a lot to say or simply preferred to remain quiet. But right now, I needed to tread carefully. I could pester her all day long, tease her to the ends of the earth only to see her react, but this was more than that.
“Who hurt you?”
Her arms tightened around her legs. “No one.”
“Grace.” Her name was a warning on my lips. “Don’t make me pry this from you.”
“How do you gather that someone has hurt me simply because you went too far?”
My eyes shut for a moment, reminding myself to have patience. “That wouldn’t have been too far for someone who hasn’t been hurt before.”
Her swallow was audible. “You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“Oh, so you’re a know-it-all, too.”
I bit back my frown. “What part upset you?”
She shifted, looking like she was preparing herself for something. “It doesn’t matter.”
“You’re stubborn, you know that?”
Finally, the woman looked at me. Her green eyes were vibrant against her black hair and pale skin. I could get lost in them, I reckoned.
“Was this your plan? To come in here and insult mesome more?” she asked. A bit of color was beginning to stain her cheeks, whether from the alcohol or her irritation at my presence, I wasn’t sure.
I pasted on a fake smile. “Is it working?”
She shook her head, turning away from me.
I didn’t like that.
I grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at me again, and quieted my voice. “Talk to me.”
Something in her melted, her eyes becoming a little softer. She seemed to study me for a moment, debating whether opening up this part of her to me was a good decision.
It isn’t, I wanted to tell her.Stay far, far away from me. Everything I touch either breaks or hurts me in the end.
“The first person I killed was an accident,” she started. I wasn’t sure what this had to do with her becoming triggered over what I’d said, but I let her continue.
“I was at Club Fourteen—the one I went to the other day. I’d gotten into an argument with my boyfriend at the time, and he left me there. Took the car and wouldn’t answer my calls.” My hand left her chin, fingers forming a fist in my lap as she went on. “So I went outside and tried to get an Uber. Well, finding one that’ll drive you to a small town in the middle of nowhere is difficult, if you can imagine. I stood there for a while, staring at that bright screen in a dark alley.
“I didn’t see the guy sneak up on me. My eyes weren’t adjusted to the dark, so I couldn’t fight him off well. He…tried to touch me. He got me on the ground, and I screamed.” Her eyes turned vacant as she relived that night. “I screamed so loud, and no one came. I dragged my nails down his face, cutting him open, and he pinned my wrists to the asphalt and told me I needed to be controlled.”
Rage hit me in the gut, churning my insides until I felt restless. It was an effort to keep my limbs from moving until a hand closed over mine in my lap.
