Stumbling back to my feet, I ignore his existence.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t think.
I can’t wrap my head around any of this.
“You’re bleeding,” Jensen points out, gripping my arm to keep me steady.
“I want him dead,” I begin to sob, hunching over as my knees finally give out, now throbbing with pain. “I want him fucking dead.”
“Come here,” Damien pleads, kneeling on the ground, pulling me into his arms.
“No,” I refuse, and the pain from my trauma consumes me.
They were right. I never spoke a word about it to anyone, until I admitted it to them just a few days ago. I pretended it never happened. I never had the chance to move on. I never grieved.
Never healed.
And now, everything is coming back.
“Quinn,” Micah quietly says, placing his hand on mine. “It’s okay. You’re okay, baby. We got you.”
Blinking up at him through my tears of sorrow, I finally break down. Crying. Screaming. Slamming my shaking fists on his chest, he pulls me onto his lap, cradling me in his arms. Rocking me back and forth, soothing me. Protecting me.
“Is that him,” Damien asks, barely any sound to his voice. “Is that him, Quinn?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “It’s him.”
“Damien, wait,” Jensen shouts, chasing after him.
“I’m so sorry,” Micah softly says, holding the back of my head. “I’m so sorry, baby. You’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“You promise?” I ask between sobs, while he carefully removes my mask.
“Yes, Quinn.” He stares endlessly into my puffy, red eyes, and takes my face between his hands. “I promise.”
Effortlessly lifting me into his arms, he carries me to the Jeep while I hold onto him for dear life. As he places me into the passenger seat, I push every thought and flashback into the back of my head, locking them away for good.
And within seconds, I become numb.
He fastens my seatbelt for me and dries my face with his sleeve. Just as he’s about to shut my door, my fingers clasp around his wrist.
“Micah,” I softly mutter, grasping the collar of his shirt and bringing him back to me. “Thank you,” I whisper, wholeheartedly. “For always being here.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he tells me, pressing a lingering kiss on my forehead.
“Micah.”
His voice catches us off guard. Jensen grabs his shoulder, and even with the mask hiding his expression, the look in his eyes terrifies me. It’s evident that something’s wrong.
Micah shuts my door, facing his back to me. “Where’s Damien?”
“I can’t find him,” he dryly replies, pulling him further away, until I can no longer hear them.
My ears begin ringing, and goosebumps rise on my skin. I’ve forgotten my jacket in Sarah’s car. It’s such a cold night; I’m able to see my own breath. My thoughts are in shambles. My knees are killing me. I’m still bleeding, and there’s somehow dried blood on my hands. There’s a full moon tonight. I wish I was curled up in bed.
Where is Ghost?
My mind races.
The sound of the driver’s side door opening startles me, breaking me from my thoughts. Micah starts the engine, ensuring that the seat warmers and heat are on full blast.