Page 127 of Haunted Prey

Instead, I took a gentler approach. After I allowed Lena to sob into her shoulder long enough, I took her into the bathroom and cleaned us both as best I could. The bleeding had stopped which was a good enough sign.

“Does anything hurt, sweetheart?” I asked. Then I realized what a stupid fucking question that was.

She looked down at the ground but didn’t say.

“How about here?” I said, touching her stomach, pressing gently against it.

She didn’t wince. Now that her face was unmasked, I could see she didn’t make a pained expression. But I heard her whisper, “Sore.”

I found some spare clothes, thin airy pants and a sweater for her and sweatpants and shirt for me. When we returned to the community room so that I could grab her a heat pad andIbuprofen from Andrea’s storage, I’d found Micheal still talking to Lena whose eyes were red but she’d stopped crying.

“I need to go. I need you to stay here and lie low for a bit,” Micheal said. “Dom might be gone but we are still in contact. He’s left Andrea at the hospital and disappeared with Lez, so I’m going to go check on her. I’ll lend you a burner phone in case something happens and if you need to leave. But I doubt anyone will get wind that you’re here. It will take some time for them to investigate what happened. Dom will keep a close watch on anything from the police.”

He gave me the burner phone from his car. I hardly said goodbye as he walked out and left us.

The next day, it was just us three. Lena was clearly ready to get Eve out and leave, but she knew I wouldn’t allow it. And she wouldn’t abandon Eve—especially not now. She could tell something was wrong, that Eve wasn’t herself. When she asked what had happened, I answered honestly: I had found her like this, and it was up to Eve to decide if she wanted to explain.

“She needs to go to a psychiatric ward or something,” Lena said while Eve was out of earshot.

I stared at her, my mouth tight. “If you honestly think I’m going to take her to another one of those, then maybe you need to be in there too,” I told her.

Her expression twisted. “Obviously nothing like where she had been. But she needs help.”

I didn’t disagree. We all needed help. But the thought of having her in another hospital where she couldn’t leave and I couldn’t get to her was unthinkable.

So, I tried my method instead. I did everything in my power to continue taking care of her. I stayed by her, I held her. That first night I cradled her, slept beside her on the mattress in the little room instead of in the apartment upstairs, not wanting toleave Lena alone by herself. And she was willing to take the couch to let us have the room.

I cooked for them. I fed her, I talked to her, not expecting her to respond back, telling her stupid little stories or jokes, and then reading to her from the little library of books Micheal kept. Shit, I even sang to her, or rather hummed since I didn’t think I had the voice. At one point I even found a blank journal and I drew little sketches for her.

When she took her nap, I started working on the car and gathering supplies beyond the ones she collected, checking the map to see the best route down to the southern border.

But deep down, I knew we couldn’t leave—not until she was strong enough, not until she understood where she was, where we were going, and who was with her. I could see it: she was hiding inside herself, just as I had done for so many years.

And I would wait an eternity if that’s what it took. I would wait just to see her look at me—really see me—to come through the other side and know she was safe, that I was right there with her.

I kissed her scars. I kissed her everywhere, hoping she could feel it, that she could know I loved her more than anything.

Eventually I was able to decipher from her little nods and responses that the physical pain was starting to subside but still the emotional damage was there and always would be.

Good thing I was a stubborn asshole because I wasn’t going to give up.

I drew my eyes away from the community room and the couch, turning back toward the hallway. I made my way over to a room a little further down and knocked before entering.

“Hey,” I said.

Lena sat in her chair by Cassidy’s bed, sifting through a collection of figurine rabbits and some of Cassidy’s paintings.She looked over her shoulder at me and I noticed her crumpling something in her hand. “Hey,” she said.

“I’m making dinner soon. I’m going to wake Eve.”

She turned to look at one of the paintings on the bed. “Okay.”

I lingered by the door. “How’s it going in here?” I wasn’t usually one to just start up a conversation, but I felt bad for her. I sensed the trauma she was feeling from watching Andrea get shot. Just being in Lez’s presence so much had to be traumatizing enough. I could also sense her loneliness.

She rolled her shoulders. “It’s going.” She peered around the small, mostly bare room. “She didn’t have much but…I’d hate to see some of these things get tossed. I doubt Micheal might keep them.”

“He might.” I'd even noticed the connection between him and Cass. A subtle fondness that bordered on love. Not love between partners, but a family love, like siblings.

“Well, I figure, if he’s cool with it, I’d take the rabbits. Some of the paintings though…kind of freak me out.” She let her hand drift over one with white rabbits falling through a void. Some of them reminded me of the drawings I had once made. “I felt sorry for her,” she said. “She was so alone, so angry.

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