Page 34 of Charge

I’d never forgetthe smell of all that blood. The image of his blown-out brain was burned into my head, and the scent would forever linger. I never thought things could get this bad.

I’d been held at gunpoint and beaten on. That should have been the worst of it. Turned out things could get much, much worse. So much for all the self-defense classes I’d taken. I’d frozen in fear, unable to so much as lift my leg to kick someone.

The car came to a stop in the circular driveway. I was still clutching Archer’s hand, unable to let go.

“We’re back.”

His voice was soft, sounding as if he was afraid to make too much noise. I didn’t blame him for being careful. I was about one drop of blood away from going over the edge.

When I reached for the buckle to undo my seat belt, my hands shook so much that I was unable to even touch it. “Why the h-hell is it n-not w-working?”

The words came out stuttered, my whole body now competing for the number one spot in the shaking world championship.

Leaning over, Archer put his hands on mine, stilling my frantic movements. He lifted my hand up, then pushed the buckle down, freeing me.

I didn’t move, afraid my feet wouldn’t carry me.

Archer got out, then leaned down so we were at eye level. “I’m going to carry you inside.”

The only thing I managed in response was a jerky nod, images of what had happened showing on repeat in my head.

He came around to my side, then lifted me out of the car without a sound. Kicking the car door shut, he tightened his hold, then walked us back into the house. Every single light was on, people rushing around.

Archer ignored everyone, not stopping to answer questions. Once in my room, he lowered me onto the bed. He then took my shoes off and helped me get under the blanket.

When he moved away as if to leave the room, I gripped his arm. “Don’t leave me.”

I didn’t care if I sounded desperate. He was the only one who could slay my demons.

Without hesitation, he sank down on the edge of the bed, taking my hand in his again.

We sat in silence until my eyes grew heavy. But every time I closed them, all I could see was blood and brain matter.

I curled up, the need to cry overwhelming but no tears appearing. I was exhausted and desperate for sleep, but at the same time, I was too scared to close my eyes.

The blankets lifted, and a warm body encased me. The action made my throat close up. I’d missed Archer with a desperation that wasn’t healthy. And when his arms wound around me and he murmured into my hair, the dam broke, and the sobs racking my body shook both of us.

“Tell me what to do to make this better,” he rasped, his face still buried in my hair. “I can’t bear to see you cry.”

I didn’t answer, just clutched his arm that was holding me to him.

He stayed with me until I drifted off, too exhausted to keep my eyes open any longer.

* * *

When I wokeup the next morning, Archer was gone, the sheets cold.

Once I shook off the drowsiness, the need to take a shower overtook anything else, closely followed by the urge to burn my clothes.

I would make sure the sheets followed the fate of my clothes. The thought of ever sleeping in them again made me want to throw up.

Pushing the blankets off me, I lifted my legs to the side of the bed. I stood up but had to close my eyes to stop the dizziness from taking me under.

Once I’d made it to the shower, I took my clothes off, then turned the water to scalding hot. After scrubbing every inch of my skin, then scrubbing it again, I sat down, letting the water pelt down on me.

After I finally got out, I dressed in yoga pants and one of William’s old sweaters.

Too restless to go back to bed, I made my way to the kitchen. After all, physically, there was nothing wrong with me.

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