Page 216 of The Rules
"It’s me."
Ben.
Relief crashed over her like a wave—too big, too fast, too sharp. She felt it rush up through her ribs, into her throat, blooming in her chest like something was about to break.
She turned the lock with trembling fingers, heart pounding in her ears, and pulled open the door—
And the breath rushed out of her lungs.
Ben stood in the doorway. Jacket half-off, shirt soaked in red. Not streaked.Drenched.The white fabric was plastered to his skin, clinging to muscle and bone, dyed in something too dark to be mistaken for anything else.
Blood.
Her stomach flipped violently. "Ben—"
He didn’t meet her eyes. Didn’t speak right away.
Just let out a long, weary exhale and shrugged off his jacket like it had become unbearable.
"It’s not mine," he said.
Flat. Depleted. Like the words were routine now. Like he’d practiced them.
She stared, frozen. Her fingers tightened on the edge of the door, knuckles white.
Not his blood.
She pictured it—her attacker, flashes of violence, of Ben and Julian standing over someone who couldn’t fight back.
She didn’t want to imagine it. Didn’t want to see it. But her mind filled in the blanks anyway.
Too much blood.
Her stomach twisted.
She slapped a hand to her mouth and turned, bolting toward the kitchen. The cold tile bit into her feet, grounding her just enough to keep her upright. She didn’t throw up, but she hovered over the sink, trembling, breath shallow.
Then water. Cold. Brutal. She splashed it on her face, trying to drown the images, trying to silence the guilt and horror curling in her gut.
Behind her, she heard the door close. Footsteps. Ben.
He didn’t say anything. Just stood there, watching her, silent and still.
Katherine turned slowly, her face wet, her pulse loud in her ears.
"What did you do?" she asked, voice hoarse.
Ben didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
The silence was heavy enough to crush her.
And it said everything.
Kath stared at the blood on Ben's shirt, the reality of what must have happened sinking into her like a stone dropping through water. Her initial shock gave way to something colder, sharper—a clarity that cut through her confusion.
Her heart pounded, loud and relentless against her ribs.
