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My blood roars in my ears as I move through the silent house. Everything inside me is screaming to get to her. To kill him. Rage like I’ve never felt courses through my body. Feet pounding on the floorboards, I barge into her room, ready to pounce.
But it’s empty.
I come to an abrupt stop as I take in the chaos, the papers, clothes, and sex toys scattered on the floor. My heart lurches into my throat, my fingers white-knuckled around the doorframe.
Her laptop is on the bed, the screen black but facing the edge. The space there is empty, like someone had kicked everything to the side. My gaze drops to the floor, and my stomach drops when I see it.
Her tattered, ripped dress. Her panties and bra.
The drops of blood.
My gaze follows them, dread like I’ve never known before coiling in my stomach as I move through the trashed room and into the bathroom. My foot loses traction when I slip on a piece of paper and I pick up my foot, spotting her shredded, beloved map from her dad.
My heart aches.
Another whimper and my head jolts up. I swallow thickly, acid pooling in my throat as I gently press the bathroom door open. I have no idea what I’ll see on the other side of it.
Is he still here?
Is he hurting her?
What did he do?
Kill him.
Kill him.
Kill—
Time stops when I see her.
My perfect, beautiful girl. My sunshine embodied. My Goldie.
The room spins as I stand frozen, watching her hunch over the vanity. With trembling hands, she tries smooth toothpaste along her toothbrush. It drips everywhere, down her hands to the porcelain counter below and she whimpers again. I take her in, bile rising higher in my throat as I see the smeared blood on her ass, on her thighs. The bruises in the shape of fingerprints on her hips.
She’s naked. She’s pale. She’s shaking.
But she’s not crying.
“Eve?” I rasp, my voice hoarse.
She jolts, a small sound leaving her as she stumbles away from me and into the wall, closing in on herself. My feet move without my permission, my body needing to get to her like I need to breathe, but she shrinks away, her arms wrapping around herself.
“Eve, baby, I’m not gonna hurt you,” I choke out.
She shakes her head, her eyes wide as she stares back at me. I force myself to take a deep breath, to calm down.
Gentle.
She needs me to be gentle.
Her toothbrush is clutched tightly in her shaky hand like it’s a weapon, her eyes still on mine. “Do you need help?” I gesture to it, and she briefly drops her eyes before finding mine again.
She shakes her head, still not speaking. Her lips are swollen and chapped, her hair tangled. There’s a cut on her lip, a bruise on her cheek already forming, and her eyes are red.
She looks…
“Dirty,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. I blink at her.
