Page 86 of Scream For Me
“Grab the cat and meet me in the car, we’re going home.”
Standing up, I pick her up and carry her to the car. She feels wrong in my arms. Too fragile, her breathing shallow as I bundle her into the car and place her head on my lap. Her blood stains my hands, my shirt, the leather, everywhere. But I don’t even care. All that matters is the faint rise and fall of her chest beneath my palm.
I push back her blood-streaked hair and lean down, giving her cold forehead a small kiss. “I love you too, little rebel. Come back to me.”
Thirty-Nine
Kat
Hurt – Nine Inch Nails
Bright white light burns against my closed eyelids. So this is it. This is the big white light that they all talk about. If I open my eyes now, will I see my grandma? Kurt Cobain? So many questions. I will my eyes to open, but they stay firmly shut. Why can’t I open them? My body feels heavy. Not exactly the light and airy feeling I would assume I’d feel after death.
I try to move my fingers, and I think they twitch, but I’m not sure. I’m vaguely aware of someone calling my name in the distance, the sound of a chair moving, but it’s just beyond my reach. I feel something against my hand. A touch? No, it can’t be. I hear another sound. It’s distant and faint, but it’s there. Breathing. Mine.
Am I alive?
My throat stings like I’ve swallowed broken glass. The smell of laundry detergent hits my nose faintly. It smells familiar. My brain lags behind my body, trying to piece everything together through the thick fog running through it. The last thing I remember is… what? I vaguely remember my phone slipping out of my hands.
Then nothing… until now.
My eyes sting as I pry them open, adjusting to the warm light flowing through the curtains. Air burns my lungs as I suck in a breath. My first breath. I try to stretch out the tightness in my body and hiss as pain lances down my arm.
Fuck. That.
The pain makes the memory hit me. The hooded man. The watching. The bathroom. The blood. Elias… But I’m alive? My stomach dips, and I don’t know if it’s relief or disappointment. Maybe both.
I hear movement across the room before warmth engulfs my hand.
“Shh. Don’t move. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
Elias.
His voice is rougher than usual, like he hasn’t used it in days. I turn my head towards the sound as my eyes finally adjust to the light, and I see his beautiful face. His brows are creased, and his hair, unkempt and unbound, falls across his face. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, one of his hands wrapped around mine so tightly his knuckles are pale. Like he’s afraid I might disappear. There’s a chair pulled close to the bed, a blanket tossed over the back of it, and an empty coffee cup on the nightstand.
I remove my hand from his and try to sit up, my body protesting at every movement.
“Don’t,” Elias moves to hold my back. “You’re still healing.”
I ignore him and sit up anyway, my back thankful for the fluffy goose-down pillows. I open my mouth to speak, but the sounds get stuck in my dry, cracked throat. Elias sees this and immediately pulls out a glass of water with a straw, pressing it tomy chapped lips. Sucking down the liquid feels heavenly. Maybe I am in heaven after all. Looking at the worry etched on Elias’s face, though, reminds me I’m not.
I finish the entire glass, and the cool liquid does its job of soothing my raw throat. He takes the glass back, and we sit in silence for a moment, his hand returning to cup my own.
“What happened?” I ask, my voice sounding hoarse.
“After you called, I had no idea where you were. But I knew something was wrong. We tracked your phone to your apartment.” He pauses. His jaw ticks before he continues. “You lost too much blood… you needed a transfusion. I’m O-Negative, so I gave you my blood.”
“Like the band.” I smile, but I know it doesn’t reach my eyes. Guilt wracks my entire body as I look at him.Reallylook at him. He’s pale, and the dark circles under his eyes let me know he hasn’t slept in… well, however long I’ve been here.
There’s a clear stain on his shirt. It’s uneven and slightly faded, spread across the front. Blood. My blood. The sight of it makes my stomach churn. It shouldn’t be on him. None of this should be on him. Elias is always so composed, and now he looks… ruined. And I did that. I didn’t just hurt myself. I hurt him, too.
“I’m so sorry, Elias. I never wanted you to see me like that. I don’t want to die—I never wanted to die. It just—” My breath hitches, and my eyes sting with unshed tears. “It all just got too much.”
He brings my hand up to his lips and plants a soft kiss against my palm. A single tear falls silently from his eyes. The sight makes my chest ache and guilt wrack my body. I never wanted this. I never wanted to hurt him.
“Can you tell me what happened?” he asks gently, his thumb rubbing small circles against the back of my hand.
My heartbeat threatens to pulse out of my chest. I want to tell him. Ineedto tell him. But my mind won’t allow it. My heart screams inside my chest with all the words it wants to say, but my mouth won’t open.
