Page 69

Chapter 22

Addie

The sun broached the horizon, painting the sky an almost metallic violet. I held the rock in a tight, white-knuckled grip, panting. The winter air stirred both my hair and the skeletal branches of nearby trees.

My eyes flickered from the blood, a surprisingly dark color, staining the rock to the person at my feet.

The girl.

Me.

Or, at least, the old me.

I found that I couldn’t muster up enough strength to care as I smashed the rock against her face. With each hit, I could feel a piece of myself breaking. Leaving. The girl’s face - my face - was distorted, grotesque almost, and held no resemblance to the girl she once was. She had been slowly chipped away, each swing of the rock making her features entirely unrecognizable.

The rock clattered to the ground, my muscles loosening as my courage dwindled. Nothing could change what had transpired. Not the sun cresting the tree boughs. Not the birds balancing precariously on a low branch, mocking me with their silence. Not the air that seemed to get colder and colder as the seconds dragged on.

No, nothing could change what had happened. What I had done.

The murder.

The massacre.

Darkness seeped through the edges of my vision like a black curtain being pulled closed. I could hear my guys, their voices the most beautiful sound in this god-forsaken forest, and I trudged forward.

I had to get to them.

I had to go home.

I had to.

All I could think about was B.M.’s shattered, disbelieving expression as I pounded the rock into her face. There were no coherent thoughts in my head, no conscious thinking, besides the fact that I needed to return home to my guys.

Her face became even more unrecognizable with newly added bruises and bloody scabs, each hit tainting something in my soul simultaneous with the skin chipping away and the bones cracking. She wasn’t the only one that had died that day.

I found that I had no regrets. I didn’t like that girl, the girl I had once been, and I was happy she was dead.

It was time to go home.

Snow flurried around me, water seeping through my thin leggings. Still, I trudged towards where my guys were silhouetted. They were calling my name, begging me to come home.

A large figure extended a hand - Calax, my rock, my protector, my best friend - and I gripped it with my own. Darkness clouded my vision, but I kept my hand firmly in his. I wouldn’t let go.

I would never let go.

* * *

I blinked,attempting to articulate where I was and how I had gotten there. Dim light broke through the darkness I was accustomed to. The product, I was sure, of multiple candles. I was lying in a bed, blankets pooled around my feet. And I was wearing…

Only my bra?

A slightly familiar male leaned over the bed. He had dark hair, an almost dirty blond color with black streaks, and a round, cherubic face. Memories came rushing to the forefront of my mind with an almost blistering speed, assaulting me.

The store.

Elena.

Bikini.