And that...that’s worse than anything else.
My jaw tightens.
My hands curl into fists.
She doesn’t have time.
And I’m running out of patience pretending that waiting is going to save her.
twelve
Zach
The image won’t leave me.
It sits behind my eyes like it’s been burned there, replaying without warning no matter where I look, no matter what I try to focus on, like everything else has been pushed aside to make room for it.
Lia on her knees.
The gag pulled tight across her mouth.
The blood on her lip.
The way she looked terrified.
It hits me again, sharp enough that my stomach turns, and I have to swallow it down as I stand beside the car, keys clenched in my hand, my hip throbbing in that deep, familiar way that’s starting to bleed into everything else.
I shouldn’t be here.
I know that.
I know exactly what this is.
I didn’t come here because this helps.
I came because I don’t know what else to do with myself.
Because standing in that apartment, watching Elijah unravel into something darker every hour, watching Jackson pull that video apart like he can force it to give him something if he stares hard enough.
I can’t stand there and do nothing.
The car pulls up like it always does.
Same place.
Same distance.
Same quiet stop like nothing has changed.
The window lowers halfway.
I step closer.
He looks at me longer than usual this time, his eyes dragging over my face like he’s taking stock of something.
“You look like shit,” he says.
“Yeah,” I answer, my voice rough. “Been a long couple of days.”
