Page 48 of Make Her Bleed
I heard that song many times growing up, and a red hot fire smokes in my lungs at the realization that maybe, just maybe, Aria heard this song from Lillian … somehow.
She doesn't speak, but tension in her body shows my presence affects her in a way I'm not used to.
"Tell me, Aria," I warn.
"Why?" she whispers fearlessly. "You've already taken everything from me. No matter what I say, it won't change anything. If you want to hurt me, you're going to do it. I'm just your punching bag. You use me to punish everyone else. My dad, Knox, Blaine … Whoever you're mad at now, use that justification instead of the sea shanty my friends back in Little Rock taught me."
I don't believe who she says taught it to her but I do believe she's lost all will to fight. She has conceded, just like I need her to.
"Luckily for you, I'm not down here to punish you. Here," I say, trying to hand her the plate but she doesn't move. "Take it, princess," I warn.
"Take what?" she asks, sounding clueless but it had to be bullshit.
"The plate in front of you," I hiss in warning.
"I can't," she mumbles, reaching her fingers out in front of her. She feels around, completely missing the plate.
"What fucking game are you playing at?" I growl, cautioning her with my tone not to fuck with me.
"None. I can't see."
My heart nearly burst through my ribs from it dropping so suddenly, a reaction to her words.
"Oh, really?" I huff sarcastically. "And how long have you been unable to see?"
I'm not putting up with this shit.
"Since you pushed me down the stairs," she mutters, her breathing level.
I set down the plate, set on proving that she's bullshitting. I wind back my fist and swing it to her face but halt right as my fist almost connects with her nose.
Shock cuts through me as she doesn't react to the move, not even a simple flinch. Everyone reacts, unless they have no way of knowing it's coming. It's an automatic response.
Aria isn't lying. She's fucking blind.
"Fucking hell," I curse. I slide my hand under her head and gently pull her to sit up where she hisses in pain.
"What's happening?" she questions as I slide my hand down her back to lift her into my arms but I feel something wet and sticky.
I pull my hand back and gaze down at the black and red streaks covering my hand.
This isn't blood from yesterday. This is fresh from within the last few hours.
"You're still bleeding," I gape at her blank expression.
"That explains the constant throbbing," she quips sarcastically as her eyelids start to flutter weakly.
"Don't you dare go to sleep, you hear me?" I demand, a flash of emotion I haven't felt in decades racing through me.
Panic.
The same girl who I held in my arms moments after she came screaming into this world, looking at me with big, blue eyes is hanging on by a thread. And it’s all my fault. I’ve put her life in danger.
Her face morphs into that of the beautiful brunette who once laid in my arms like this, nearly lifeless, over twenty years ago—who last sent the feeling of terror through me.
Teigan.
No, I can't think of her. I need to focus on Aria.
