Page 45 of Kaine

“I don’t know, sir, I just saw her grab her side, and when she pulled her hand away, she was bleeding. Not a lot but not a little either, you know?”

Fuck, no. I’m dizzy at the thought that I’m the reason something’s happened to her. Probably aggravated her wound from the mugging.

“Where is she going? Do you know, did she say?”

“Just that she was going to the hospital.”

“Which one? Did she say?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry”

I barely let him get the last word out before I run in the direction of the cab, I turn the corner, but it’s gone. The taxi’s gone.

And so is she.

***

“I don’t care if youhave to call every hospital in the five boroughs. Fucking find her, Xavier!”

I hang up and fling the phone across the room, hearing it land on the couch with a thud and falling to the floor.

I walk over and pick it up, checking for cracks, before placing it on the coffee table.

Ring, dammit, ring,I beg of my phone, willing it to be her. Telling me she’s okay, telling me she forgives me.

She’s been gone just over an hour and already I feel like there’s a vacuum in this place. She made this place hers in the one day she was here, and now that she’s gone, it’s emptied of air, of life.

I flip open my laptop and rewind the security footage of her watching me in the bathroom. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I know what I don’t want to see. Fear. Disgust. Pity. Horror.

I pause on the moment she must’ve seen the scars and zoom in on her face. Her eyes are wide, her mouth slightly open. But there’s no fear, no disgust; there’s surprise, but nothing else.

I run the tape again, from the moment she discovers my secret.

I was wrong.

There is something else, something in her eyes as she watches me. Something soft and tender. Understanding. Empathy.

I watch it again. And again.

No. It must be there. The repulsion, the look of horror. It must be. I’ve seen it so many times. On so many faces. Of people who were supposed to love me and of strangers on the street. On children’s innocent expressions and from adults who should know better.

But it’s not there.

Fuck.

What’ve I done?

The phone rings and I jump at the sound. It’s Xavier.

“What?”

“She’s not at Lenox Hill.”

“Then keep calling.”

“I will, it’s just...”

“What?”