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I need to break something. I need to scream and make something look the way I feel on the inside. All I need is a distraction from how helpless and angry I feel.
Looking around the room, I spot a white vase sitting on the bedside table.
I pick it up, feeling the weight of it for a moment before screaming and hurling it at the wall on the opposite side of the room. Some of the anger leaves my body as the thing shatters with a crash, jagged little pieces flying everywhere.
I pick up a glass figurine from the bookshelf and throw that too. Glass rains down onto the dark hardwood floors.
As I stare at the destruction I caused, the anger starts to fade, giving way to exhaustion and sadness. But a stronger feeling arises.
Oh god. What have I done?
Tears roll down my cheeks as I hurry over to the pile of glass and ceramic.
I need to clean it before Christian walks in here and sees the mess. I don’t know what he’ll do to me if he finds out that I’m breaking his things.
I kneel down, and a sharp sting travels up my leg making me scream.
Tears start flowing as I sit back and look at the large piece of glass wedged in my leg.
The door to my room bursts open, and Christian comes running in, a gun in his hand.
“What the hell is going on in here?” He looks around the room before his gaze lands on me.
He tucks the gun into his waistband and shakes his head. “You know, if you want things to break, I have an entire set of dishes put away just for that purpose. My little sister likes to break shit when she’s pissed off too.”
“How would I know that?” I sit back and stretch my leg out in front of me.
My head starts to spin as I look at the blood trickling down my leg. “Do you have a bandage?”
“Come here,” Christian says, crouching and scooping me up into his arms. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”
“I don’t do well with blood.”
He doesn’t say another word as he carries me into the ensuite washroom and sets me on the edge of a massive tub.
I look out the window at the woods that surround the backyard.
It’s a stunning view and one that I know I won’t get tired of looking at for however long I’m here.
Christian is silent as he works, pulling the glass out of my leg with a pair of tweezers he found in a drawer.
White towels get stained red as he cleans up the blood and looks at the wound.
“You shouldn’t need stitches, but I’m going to send a picture to the doctor to make sure.” He pulls out his phone and takes a quick picture before returning his attention to my leg. “I'm sorry you're involved in this mess. I don’t want your life here to be difficult.”
“Somehow, I think it’s going to be difficult whether you want it to be or not.”
He just smiles and continues dabbing at the wound, sitting there with my leg in his lap and humming along to a song that only he can hear.
As he sits there with me for who knows how long, I wonder if there is more to him than meets the eye.
5
CHRISTIAN
My phone starts ringing before the sun comes up.
I groan as I get up from my position on the floor just outside Zoe’s door.
