Page 7 of Queen of Ruin

Turning my hands under the spray, I slowly coax my thumb over my palm and begin washing the blood away. Water trickles and blood dissolves, fading from my palms and wrists, but it’s more stubborn around my knuckles. I press harder and harder, rubbing my hands together and glaring down at the stubborn streaks refusing to leave.

Suddenly, I’m fifteen again and it’s my brother’s blood I can’t wash off. A stain that remained on my skin for months after his death and no amount of washing could ever remove it. Nothing could.

Except drugs.

Drugs remove everything bad and replace it with their own, but even the downsides are better than real life because none of it is personal.

None of it hurts.

Maybe I should call Tech.

That thought plagues me as her blood finally fades from my skin and the water runs clear.

If I wake up tomorrow with the cops on my doorstep and a dead body in my bed, will it have been worth it?

I’m so out of my depth here that I can’t answer my own question, so I slink off to the living room and ease myself down onto the couch.

One hour. I’ll give her one hour to wake up and then I’m calling the cops. Whatever explanation there is for her fear and actions, I can’t handle it on my own. I’m just a guy. She’s a stranger, and they’ll know what to do.

That hour never comes because I’m asleep within minutes. Exhaustion from my busy day and the fading adrenaline in my system pull me into a sleep so deep that I sag back against the cushions, mouth open and body finally relaxed.

Gunshots echo in my dream. Dying gurgles of strange men, screams of terrified women, and anger. Rage toward me for killing those men and kidnapping that woman. The slam of the jail cell behind me jolts me from my sleep, and I bolt upright. The world blurs while I try to focus and my breath catches in my throat as my dry tongue sticks to my dry mouth.

Fuck.

Pain radiates through my torso like a fever, and I grunt softly, rubbing my eyes.

Shit.

Didn’t mean to fall asleep. I was supposed to…

Another crash echoes through my apartment, and all lingering sleep vanishes as if I’ve just been doused in cold water.

That came from the bedroom.

Is she awake?

3

VALENTINA

Pain lances through my temple, blinding me the second I try to open my eyes. Every part of me throbs like a huge bruise, from my lips to my stomach to my knees. The softness dips beneath me as I shift, fighting between a desperation to see and the pain racking through my body that forces me to move slowly.

Where am I?

Nothing but fuzz buzzes in my mind, like a flood of static pouring between my ears and clouding all thoughts other than ‘ow’. Placing my hand to the side, I lean back as I open my eyes, but there’s nothing to support my palm.

I topple right over the side and crash down onto the floor.

“Ahh!” The impact sends shockwaves of pain throughout my entire body and my breath catches in my throat as I tense up, too scared to move. Wave after wave pulses from head to toe in time with my racing heartbeat.

My only comfort is the cold floor pressing against my cheek.

God… what the fuck happened?

I blink, and suddenly, black socks appear in front of me, leading up to ruffled jeans faded with age.

Someone’s here?