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VERONICA
“This is the room,” Thomas stated as he unlocked the room at the seedy motel. The rundown area was unappealing, and judging from the other couple in the lobby of the reception area, it was a typical joint used for transgressions and sin. The provocative woman with the uneasy man who kept fidgeting were a clear sign that infidelity was a common occurrence here with paid women. Not that I cared what she did to get by.
All I’d cared about was how badly my body ached and the desire to peel my own skin off to free me from Vincent’s touch.
“Do you mind if I shower?” I mumbled as I slid my gaze to the door of the bathroom.
“Of course, you do that. Here, this stuff is for you,” he said softly, offering me the bag of things from the gas station.
“What is it?” I asked as I peeked inside, softening at the contents.
A packet of pads, liners, a toothbrush, brush, and toothpaste.
“He hurt you,” he said, unable to meet my gaze. “I dunno if there was any damage… but I figured you’d want to feel like yourself, too.”
“Thanks.” I wanted to be more grateful, but my mind was too caught up on what had happened, and I turned for the bathroom.
“I’m going to go back to speak with the manager, I’ll lock the door. Need to sort out the car stuff,” he stated, and I just nodded before closing the bathroom door.
I waited until I heard the motel door open and close, the lock clicking before I leaned my head against the back of the bathroom door, letting the small sob escape me. Another followed, and I crumpled to the floor, the tears streaming as I wept, pulling my legs against my chest.
The brothers would be here soon. Everything would be okay.
I ground my teeth together.
I didn’t want to be relying on them to save me. And yet here I was, awaiting them to ride in on their white horses.
More like black, bloody horses.
I managed a small snort despite my tears.
This whole thing, it was karma for what I’d done, for allowing them to murder someone in my name. This hurt, this pain…
No. I didn’t deserve this. I couldn’t take on this guilt. I was stronger than this, I’d survived that night, that swan dive off the bridge, and it had to be for a reason. I was a survivor.
This was just another scar that would forge me into a stronger person. I would weep and despair over it, but it was just another part of me now.
I pushed myself off the floor, focusing on the positives. I was alive, and I was safer now.
Not entirely safe, but I wasn’t being attacked either.
I stripped down, wincing at the blood in my underwear. Nothing too extreme, but the sight made the sickness churn in my stomach.
I blasted the hot water, only turning it down enough so it wouldn’t burn my skin off before I stepped under the spray. I wanted to burn away Vincent’s grimy fingerprints, to erase the entire thing from my mind.
But I knew that wouldn’t be possible. I let my tears flow as I washed myself, my core aching from the assault. I took care as I cleaned myself internally, wanting to make sure there wasn’t any serious damage done. I was sore, and the pain and stinging were sure signs of internal tears, but it didn’t seem to be anything a few days' rest wouldn’t sort out. Physically, at least.
I washed my hair as well, wanting to completely wash the entire experience away, taking my time under the hot water.
But Vincent’s face would be burned into the darkness behind my eyes, the blade still pressed against my throat.
I shut the water off, holding my hand to my heart, focusing on the steady thrum of it. I was alive, that was all that mattered right now.
I stepped out, drying myself slowly and gazing at my clothing, wanting to burn them into ash.
I flinched at the knock on the door.
“Veronica, I got some new clothes for you. The manager provided them,” Thomas said through the door.
