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I frowned. “Why? Did you mix it with bourbon or something?”
Her lips twisted as yet more tears tumbled down her cheeks, silver in the moonlight, etching her face with painful edges.
My heart once again fisted, feeding off her, ready to fight off her enemies but not able to see where they were coming from. “Nerida...”
Biting her bottom lip, she shook her head, refusing to make eye contact.
Words tangled on my tongue; I looked around the boat. “Do you want me to go and pick up some food? I’m sure a doner kebab place would still be open.”
She inhaled sharply as if each time I talked, I sliced open her veins and made her bleed.
My heart pounded. My pulse throbbed in every finger and toe. Sweat slicked down my back from nerves, and I lasted as long as I could before I turned to face her and whispered, “Bana ne oldugunu anlat. Buna dayanamiyorum. Senin bu kadar aci çekmen bana dayanilmaz geliyor. Nasil durdurabilecegimi söyle. Neri, bunu durdurmaliyim çünkü seni böyle görmek beni çildirtiyor.”
I froze, noticing my slip of languages.
Her eyes snapped closed, and she clutched the railing with white-knuckled fists.
Repeating myself in English, I murmured, “Tell me what happened. I can’t stand this. Can’t stand you hurting like this. Tell me how I can make it stop. I need to make it stop, Neri, because I’m going out of my mind seeing you this way.”
Slowly, ever so slowly, she turned to face me.
Tears ran down her cheeks.
Clouds churned in her harrowed stare.
Licking her lips, she said ever so quietly, “If you commit a crime here...the worst thing they can do is deport you...right?”
I froze. My back snapped straight.
Deport me to my death.
I swallowed that truth and murmured, “I don’t know. I’m not sure how the criminal system works. Why? Why are you asking me that?”
Her face twisted with more sadness. She wrung her fingers and asked again. “If I asked you to hurt someone...would you?”
“What?” My stomach sank even as my heart turned to ice. That damn link between us. That series of nudges and knowings fed me things I didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to see. Sickness swelled in my belly as I shook my head. “Neri...wh-what are you saying?”
Her lips thinned as she grimaced. She wedged both hands against her belly. She shuddered as if she couldn’t bear to stand up, to talk, to live, but then she stood taller and looked me dead in the eye. “If I asked you to kill someone...would you?”
My knees locked to prevent me from dropping before her. I balled my fists to prevent me from touching her. I swayed on the spot as horror bled through me, pore by pore, cell by cell.
And I knew.
I knew before she reached for the buttons of her cardigan and slowly undid them.
I knew before she pulled the stolen clothing off her shoulders and shrugged it to the floor.
I knew before she raised her wrists and angled them in the moonlight.
And my heart motherfucking broke.
Stepping into her, I grabbed her wrists and studied the bruises, the blood. Tears stung my eyes. I groaned with murderous fury and despairing grief. “No...” I choked. “No...”
She cried silently as I raised her bruise-smudged and blood-coated wrists to my mouth. I trembled as rage surged through me.
Rage.
RAGE.
