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The look is so vicious, so cruel that I find myself reaching for him with my bloodied hand, cupping his face as he pulls me into him. “Zayn, what—?”
His hand clasps the back of my neck and forces my face into his chest. “I don’t want him seeing your face.”
His voice is calm, so cold and calm that it frightens me.
One of the policemen notices the photographer and rushes towards him, citing violations, and as I peek over Zayn’s shoulder, the photographer meets my eyes and waves at me cheerfully, before running off.
“Who is that?” I want to control the tremble in my voice.
“A dead man,” Zayn murmurs so quietly that I almost don’t hear it.
My blood turns to ice in my veins.
Lorraine’s mothers meet me at the hospital.
I refused to leave her side.
They see the blood on my hands, and Dina, who is also a friend, bursts into tears and rushes into my arms.
“She’s going to be fine,” I mumble, trying to reassure her, trying to mute Lorraine’s scream inside my head where it keeps playing like a broken record, stuck in a loop. I can’t stop hearing it, can’t stop hearing the terror in it, the pain.
Zelda, Dina’s wife, has her lips pressed together, her face chalky white as she obviously tries to keep it together. “Who was it? How did this happen?”
My eyes see Zayn striding towards me, his face calm and steady. For the first time, I feel grateful that he is here, that he made sure I am not alone.
My eyes drink in his figure, the purposeful movement, his burning gaze, laced with possessiveness as his eyes rake over my figure in a way to reassure him that I am fine.
I turn my attention towards Zelda, who is still waiting for me to answer, and with my arms full of Dina, who is still sobbing, I shake my head. “I don’t know. She locked up and she was waiting for Cory at her desk and I was just cleaning up after the last class.”
A shuddering breath and Dina leans back from me, wiping her eyes. “He was inside, this monster?”
Was he inside? I wonder with growing horror. Waiting for us to be alone?
As Zayn reaches my side, I feel his hand clasp mine, and the touch steadies me. “I can’t say. I don’t know. It was ten minutes or so, I think. I heard something, and then I saw the lights were off in the hall. Whoever he was, he knew which breakers to turn off and which to keep on.”
“It was premeditated,” Zayn says, his eyes hard. “This was no break-in. Whoever he was, he knew exactly who would be in the building and where.”
I sway at his words and then automatically widen my stance to keep my feet on the ground, trying not to retch at the idea, helpless, hopeless confusion overtaking me.
“Lorraine will be out of surgery in a few minutes,” Zayn tells the two women who are holding on to each other. “I know the doctor. He’s a good surgeon. Lorraine won’t be able to talk for a while, but she’ll be okay.” He gives the Dina a kinder look. “Maybe you could look in on the young man who followed us in his car. He’s inconsolable.”
Motherly instincts taking over, Dina leaves to find Cory while Zelda stays where she is, dry-eyed and pale.
“I’m sorry, Zelda.” I really don’t know what else to say.
She nods, the movement a jerk, but I see the accusation flare to life in her eyes.
Why didn’t you protect my daughter?
11
Zayn
Eve looks exhausted, drained.
I watch her clutch the paper cup with both her hands but the foul-smelling hospital coffee sloshes as her hands shake and she lowers it to rest on her knees.
She stares blankly at the floor, not even acknowledging my presence, even though she is aware that I am here.
