Carter Reed

should’ve. You should’ve. She shouldn’t be here. Both of you shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be hiding—”
    “They’re going to kill us!”
    “Who?” he yelled back at me. His hands were in fists, and he raised them both in the air. “Who, Emma? Who could possibly be this dangerous that instead of going to the hospital, you come here—”
    “The mob, you idiot!” I lunged for him, but Amanda wrapped her tiny arms around me. Her feet dug in and I was swung back to the couches. I fell over them, but scrambled back to my feet. My hair fell to cover my face. I threw it back and heaved at him. My eyes were wild. Red-hot fury coursed through me, but it was when he stepped back that I realized what I must’ve looked like. Crazy.
    I drew in a deep breath and tried to calm myself.
    Shit—it was hard.
    “Where is she?”
    “Sleeping.” He folded his arms over his chest, and his chin tucked down. “And she’s going to stay that way. She needs to sleep, Em. She has to start healing, and she’s going to need all the rest she can get.”
    I raked my hands through my dark hair. I wanted to pull it out. I wanted that pain to sear through me. Any suffering would do, anything strong enough to rip out the pain from inside of me. Then I cried out. A gasp/half-gurgle ripped from me as I sunk to my knees. God, could I be more dramatic, but holy hell. I was going to hell. They were going to kill me.
    “Emma.” Amanda was at my side again. She urged me back to my feet, and we both moved to curl on the couch. I wasn’t a touchy-feely person, but I clung to her in that moment. I needed all the strength she was giving me.
    The chaos was bouncing inside of me, ricocheting around at a rapid pace. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t center myself in order to force all those emotions away.
    “Emma.”
    I closed my eyes when her soft hands came to my face. She lifted it up and started to inspect every line of exhaustion there was. Then she said in a gentle voice, “You should clean up, hon. Let’s go to the shower. I’ll help.”
    I shook my head. It wouldn’t do any good.
    “Come on.” Her hand cupped my elbow, and she started to pull me up. Her grip was strong.
    Ben was rooted in place as he watched us. His gaze was stark and the hand that ran down his face couldn’t hide the exhaustion. I saw that he could’ve fallen over alongside of me. We were a mess, both of us, but then I caught sight of the closed bedroom door. The sick laugh in me shriveled up suddenly. None of us were in as much of a mess as she was.
    Mallory. He had raped her.
    An image of her broken eyes stared back at me as his hips thrust into her.
    I flinched from the sudden flash, and this time the vomit really did come up. Rushing into the bathroom, I dropped to my knees. Frantically, I threw the toilet seat up just before everything pushed out of me. I did it again. And again. More came after that, and by the end, I could only hang onto the toilet to keep from falling down.
    I was going to die.
    “Oh, honey. Emma honey.” A cold washcloth was pressed to my forehead as Amanda knelt beside me. She wiped something off before she pressed it on my cheeks and then swiped beneath my lips. “You look a mess, but it’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”
    I closed my eyes tighter. I didn’t want to see the rest of the pity in her eyes. I couldn’t handle it, not from her. Her eyes were so crystal blue, no emotion could hide in them. I had to clear it all away. Mallory needed me. And then, as I continued to think of my roommate, I shoved the rest of my fear to the side. When I opened my eyes, I turned and finally looked Amanda in the eyes. Unlike her baby blues, mine were dark, nearly black, and she couldn’t see anything. She wouldn’t see the effort it took me to keep from vomiting more garbage.
    I was contaminated.
    “I killed a man.”
    “I know, honey.” She bent and rested her forehead against mine. Her hands continued to wipe the washcloth over my cheeks. “We’ll get through this. We have to.”
    “How?”
    I winced at the tremble in my voice. I was weak. Pathetic.
    “They’re coming for me, Ems. You need to be strong. You hear me? You have to be strong.”
    My brother’s voice was in my head. Those memories wouldn’t help me now.
    Amanda frowned at me. “What?”
    “Nothing,” I muttered as I lifted an arm and tried to push her away, just a little. I needed room to breathe.
    “No matter who knocks on the door, you