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Micah shuts my door, facing his back to me. “Where’s Damien?”
“I can’t find him,” he dryly replies, pulling him further away, until I can no longer hear them.
My ears begin ringing, and goosebumps rise on my skin. I’ve forgotten my jacket in Sarah’s car. It’s such a cold night; I’m able to see my own breath. My thoughts are in shambles. My knees are killing me. I’m still bleeding, and there’s somehow dried blood on my hands. There’s a full moon tonight. I wish I was curled up in bed.
Where is Ghost?
My mind races.
The sound of the driver’s side door opening startles me, breaking me from my thoughts. Micah starts the engine, ensuring that the seat warmers and heat are on full blast.
“Is everything okay?” I softly ask. “What’s going on?”
Jensen hops in the back.
Micah hesitates, and gently takes my hand. “Everything’s fine,” he reassures me.
“We’re getting you out of here,” Jensen says, reaching up to caress my cold arms, warming me with the friction.
“Where’s Damien?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Micah dismissively answers, tightly gripping my thigh as he speeds down the long driveway. “He can handle himself. That, I’m sure of.”
Somehow, over the drive, I’ve managed to lose track of time. Micah opens my door once we reach their apartment, and Jensen helps me onto my feet, ensuring I’ve gained back my balance.
“I’ll be back,” Jensen tells us, shutting my door before walking around to the driver’s side.
“Where are you going?” I call out.
Micah wraps his arm around me, bringing me close.
“Back to the party, so I can bring the crazy bastard home,” he rushes out, slamming his door.
“Come on,” Micah calmly urges, guiding me toward the front steps.
* * *
The bathwater isthe perfect temperature. Micah washes my back while I hug my scraped knees tight against my chest. Shutting my eyes, I drown in the feeling of the water soothing my skin and muscles. The warmth caresses me, filling my body with heat, even though I feel so cold.
Broken.
Empty.
It’s such a strange feeling to know that I’ve unintentionally blocked out what had happened to me over a year ago now. Thinking back, I always thought I was crazy. I believed him when he told me that I wanted it. Asked for it.
And I never told anyone about it until I told Damien, Jensen, and Micah. They listened. They comforted me. They reassured me that it wasn’t my fault.
Micah grazes the washcloth over my knees, and gently washes away the dried blood, staining the water pink. Staring at the concerned expression on his face, I find myself admiring him while he cleans my wounds. Every feature. Every detail.
The pained look behind his gentle eyes.
He cares about me so much.
They all do.
“Micah,” I nearly whisper, and his eyes meet mine.
“Am I hurting you?” he questions.
