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“Sure. I’ll show myself out.” Eileen’s eyes ping-ponged between me and the conservatory door, as attuned to my misery as a prostate exam. “I’ll send you some Shanghai apartments via email. Please be sure to star me as a primary contact.”
My fingers curled into a fist, the unmistakable burn of human flesh spreading across my skin where she’d touched.
It felt like I’d been sullied. Marked, stained, and contaminated. An allergic reaction if I’d ever felt one.
My windpipe narrowed. I couldn’t breathe. It still felt like she was touching me.
I needed to get her off, get her off,get her off.
And finally—goddamn fuckingfinally—Eileen vanished out the open double doors.
Just in time to miss her future husband collapsing onto the hardwood planks.
Weak, useless, and pathetic.
I didn’t have time to dwell on how unsuited for civilization the broken shell of my body was.
The minute Eileen disappeared, I raced to the teapot and showered my hand with its hot liquid.
When it ran out, I hustled in the direction of the nearest bathroom.
Natalie caught me halfway through my journey, a batch of documents in her hands. “Oh, hey. Mr. Costa and Mr. von Bismarck were wondering if?—”
I sidestepped her, barking out behind me, “The answer is no.”
The bathroom door burst open in my rush, flinging against the wall. The crystal handle attached to the interior shattered all over the tiles.
I kicked the door shut and stepped on spiky glass shards with my bare feet, barreling to the sink.
Blood pooled at my heels. The pain didn’t even register.
I just needed to get her the hell off me.
I flipped the faucet to extra hot, thrust my hand into the pouring stream, and tipped my head back, groaning.
The water came out fire-hot, lashing my flesh, stinging every inch like electric wires. I closed my eyes, practicing deep breaths.
The “good” thumb—the one that hadn’t been contaminated by Eileen’s touch—rubbed soothing circles over my infected skin.
Images of dead, rotting flesh plastered against me assaulted my brain.
Blood.
Skin burned down to the muscle.
“Just wait, Zachary, we’re coming to get you.”
“Shit, Stan, that kid’s gonna be fucked up. No way is he coming back normal from this.”
“If that were me, I’d want to die, too.”
I slapped the faucet handle with my quivering free hand, trying to get it hotter, but it had already maxed out.
The water hissed as itscorched my skin beneath it clean to the bone. I didn’t withdraw.Couldn’t.
Not when I needed to rid myself of her touch.
No matter the price.
