Page 3 of Altered

She wasn’t running for the hills.

Hope Carter had witnessed first-hand how dark I could go, and she was pulling mecloser.

It didn’t matter what happened from here on out, I would always belong to her.

Fucking always.

"It's okay," I promised, wrapping her up in my arms, dying a little more inside every time a sob tore from her. "Shh." Holding her tighter than I probably should have, I continued to whisper promises in her ear, telling her everything she needed to hear. "Everything is going to be okay."

And I meant it.

Everything would be okay.

Forher.

I would make sure of it.

"You killed him," Hope repeated over and over again, clinging to my body like it was her lifeline. "You killed him for me."

"I love you," was all I could say in this moment. "There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you."

I held her until she grew quiet, but the sounds of her feeble protests and desperate pleas for mercy were still racing around in my mind.

Like a torturous fucking memory on slow repeat, the sound of her begging that bastard for mercy was ringing in my ears, pushing me closer to the line between my sanity and the monster within.

Unsure of my next move, I inhaled a calming breath.

Touching her seemed to be the only thing keeping me sane.

Running my hands all over her, making sure she was in one piece, still breathing.

She swayed against me, body bruised and broken, but still in one piece.

Fuck!

Why had this happened?

Whyher?

What if I hadn't come here?

We needed a plan.

A fucking plan.

I couldn't think.

I needed to get her to the hospital.

I needed to think.

I couldn’t fuckingthinkstraight.

I was good under pressure.

This was what I did; I cleaned shit up.

So why the fuck couldn’t I think right now?

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