Page 33
“Help! Somebody help!”
I slam her hard against the wall, and her head connects with a thud.
11
Darling
Ilean against the opposite wall, holding the sleeve of my sweater against the cut, the fabric soaked in blood. My reflection in the black TV screen across the room shows a wide-eyed stranger, more beast than girl. We stare at each other, both of us breathing hard.
While Ellie isn’t out completely, she’s not speaking, and her eyes are dazed.
“I’m sure Blaire didn’t understand why she had to die, too. She was innocent, just like you,” I tell her, despite her not being coherent. “I don’t understand how this mess happened.”
A portion of me knows… knows I deserve this. I deserved to be cut and so much more. But the other part? The darker fraction of me that’s been growing every day can’t wait for Preston to walk through that door.
Ellie begins to stir just when we hear the rumble of a car engine, followed by the slam of a door. Heavy footsteps cross the porch above us, and I hear the front door open.
I turn to make sure Ellie isn’t going to attempt anything, but her bloodshot eyes widen when the footsteps register.
“Preston! I’m down here!” she tries to call out, but doesn’t get louder than her speaking voice.
This isn’t a rescue, I want to tell her. It’s judgment day.
I watch the ceiling, following the sound of his footsteps. I hear him pause at the top of the stairs, and I can almost feel him preparing to face me—to face this situation.
“Wynnie? Darling?” He calls down calmly.
His shadow appears on the wall in front of the stairs, each step bringing him closer and closer to the truth. When he makes it to the bottom, I’m struck by how different he looks. Gone was the casual college student studying in the library or in a suit after work. This is Preston, dressed in all black, just like he does when he’s Ghost. Only now he’s not wearing the mask. He isn’t hiding anymore.
His gaze sweeps the room, taking in every detail until they land on Ellie, huddled in the corner, crying. I see danger flicker in his eyes.
Next, he sees the cut on my cheek; his jaw clenches so hard I can almost hear his teeth grind together.
“What the fuck happened?”
“She tried to run,” I tell him in the same casual tone he uses with me.
Ellie whimpers, pressing herself harder against the wall, leaving a bloody mark from where she hit her head. “Preston… tell her she’s wrong. Tell her… you’re not… that you haven’t…” She can’t even say the words. She musters up a yell, “Tell her!”
Preston doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. He stands there, staring at his sister with an expression I can’t interpret. Guilt? Regret?
“Oh, god. This is what you meant, isn’t it?” She cries. Ellie finally sees the truth, and I’m witnessing her actively grieve the brother she knew.
All of my own grief, the crushing emptiness of loss… I can’t carry it anymore. The pain is going to kill me if I don’t let it out somehow. I turn toward the broken bottles; my movements feel disconnected from my body, but my hands wrap around a large shard, its edges sharp enough to cut through my own flesh.
“Wynnie,” Preston warns, his hands raised and tight with alarm. “Put it down. Whatever you think this will accomplish, it’s not worth it. She’s innocent.”
I’m not looking at him anymore; hell, I can barely hear what he’s saying to me. My eyes are locked on Ellie, on the girl who shares his blood, his name, and his face. She’s his family, the only thing he seems to care about in this world besides me.
“I know she’s innocent. But innocent people die every single day. You taught me that, Ghost.”
Ellie sees me coming and sobs, trying to get a scream out; it’s a sound that carves itself into my memory. I’ll die with it still ringing in my ears. Her arms come up to block me, and I hear Preston’s footsteps behind me approaching, but I’m too fast.
I take the sharp edge sticking out of my hand and, with quick force, I shove glass into the side of her neck, wiggling it and pressing hard to make sure it goes in deep; it feels both horrifying and inevitable. Her plea gurgles, eventually turning into a choking gasp. Blood pours between her fingers. It’s more blood than I’ve ever seen come from a living person.
“Wynn,” Preston gasps, surging forward, shoving me out of the way so hard I stumble and nearly fall. “Ellie! Fuck! No, no, no, no!”
His composed mask shatters completely as he drops to the ground, his large frame slouched as he cradles her in his arms. She’s small against him, and the light in her brown eyes is fading faster than I expected.
