AllFreeNovel
Share Us
All I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears, the rush of my own breath. Wind howls through the garden below as Wesley calls my attention to the railing.
It's made of dark metal, with a sharp edge where it diverges at the stairs.
And it is on that sharp edge that I see what he's pointing out.
Blood.
I touch it with my own bloody hands. It's tacky between my fingertips and a little darker than my father's blood. It's been here a few minutes longer.
"Are we sure it's hers?" Stuart asks.
But it's like my heart is underwater, inside the hull of a sinking ship.
Alize is missing, and there's blood on the railing, right next to the bathroom where I found my father. I start descending the stairs, my eyes scanning every inch of it for any more clues.
The paved stone path leads directly into the gardens.
My head is devoid of thoughts, only instinct. I need to find her. If this is her blood, she's hurt. The baby could be hurt. I need to find her.
Before long, I'm jogging through the maze of the gardens, following the path my feet set for me. I can feel that something's wrong, deep in my chest. It's worse than that time when I left her in the care of Ezra and Vance and couldn't get a hold of him to find out what happened.
No, this time, it feels like I'm showing up to my own funeral.
I can't imagine losing her.
The blood pumping in my ears is drowning out of the sound of my feet against the pavement, of Wesley and Stuart's voices calling after me, everything.
There's no wind. No sounds of the party above.
My chest is crushing my heart.
I'm in the centre of the garden now, a manicured sitting area decorated to match the party above. There's no sign of any more blood, either. I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Alize's number.
It rings.
And rings.
And rings some more.
"Come on, sweetheart. Pick up the phone."
It still rings. I'm pacing the length of the raised concrete platform of the garden when my eyes fall to one of the stone planters in the corner. It's stained with something, so I walk over to it.
It's a blood stain on the blunt edge, a pool of it below.
Then the light gleaming down from the snowflake-shaped string lights above catch on something sitting right by the planter. I would know it anywhere.
Alize's engagement ring.
And the white gold band is smeared with blood.
TWENTY-NINE
ALIZE
It would never work.
Maybe it's selfish of me.
