Page 47

“He walked over to me. He called me—” I pause, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “He called me a stupid brat, and he stabbed me in my stomach.” I raise my finger over the bumped five-inch line. The injury had taken weeks to heal. Carson’s body stills. I know he saw my scar. He’s probably connecting the pieces in his head. “My throat was already hurting.” I laugh bitterly, thinking back to how naive I had been. “He had already slit my throat, but I didn’t know. I thought I had the cold again.” I shake my head. “Fuck I was so stupid.”

“Hey,” Carson calls from underneath me, fury radiating in his eyes, then softens when I look at him. “You were a child. You were not stupid. You didn’t know what was happening.” I’ve been trying to tell myself that for years, that it wasn’t my fault, I didn’t realize what was happening, I was eight, I had no idea someone was capable of doing that to an innocent child. But still, as the only survivor, it’s difficult to change that mindset. I lay down on his chest again. “He walked over to Mickey. He always slept on his back. He did that that night too. The man lifted the knife and he—” Carson his arms tighten around me. “He stabbed Mickey in the chest.” The words escape in a fast breath. “He died instantly, but I—I didn’t see it happen. I passed out, and when I woke up, he was red. I thought it was paint. I was so confused why he was covered in paint. But it wasn’t paint. It was blood. I didn’t realize it until I was in the hospital—I passed out. Due to blood loss, the last thing I thought was that I was going to ask Micah about the paint, and then I woke up and realized the truth.”

We lay in silence. The moonlight illuminates the room through the window. Carson is quiet underneath me.

“I was lying on my stomach. That’s why I survived. The knife didn’t cut through my skin deep enough. He angled it wrong, so it cut through my skin but not my artery. My vocal cords were damaged, but apparently the wound wasn’t deep enough.” I let out a watery laugh then continue. “It happened in the middle of the night, but we had made some noise, the neighbors had called the cops, The firefighters were closer by, so they were first on scene, I vaguely remember the firefighters opening the door, but Micah was already dead by then, I was staring at them, two firefighters entered the room, The first was the captain, he threw up, the other one went over to Micah, I could hear them cursing. I blacked out for a short while, then regained consciousness for a few seconds in the ambulance. The firefighter who threw up was sitting next to me. He was holding my hand. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. He had leaned closer to my face and had whispered in my ear that I was going to be okay. Then passed out again.” My words linger in the air. “I woke up in the hospital and learned Micah was dead, and that they couldn’t find Mr Monroe.” I blow out a breath, relieved I let someone hear that story again. When I hear a quiet sniffle, confused, I lean upright, careful not to hurt Carson.

I gaze up at his face. My heart stops when I see the tear streaks on his cheeks, his bloodshot eyes. He’s crying. “Are you crying?” He sniffs his eyes bloodshot.

“Don’t cry,” I beg, swiping away his tears, only for more to fall.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks. I shake my head rapidly. “You don’t have to be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about.” More tears roll down his cheeks.

“Please don’t cry…I don’t like it when you cry.”

He chuckles brokenly “I’m sorry it happened.” He pulls me down so I’m lying on top of his chest again. “I hate that it happened to you.”

“I’m fine now. Remember? You said it yourself.”

“You’re so fucking brave,” he whispers breathlessly. “Seeing and surviving that, and still being so grateful for life.”

He cradles me closer so he’s laying his cheek on the top of my head, “Your brother would be so proud of who you have become.” His words hit me right in my chest. My throat is dry. No one has ever said that to me before. I’m speechless. I have no idea what to say right now. “You don’t need to say anything, Sunshine—” He pauses, trying to find the right words, and says, “Just know that I always got your back.”

Chapter Fourteen

Carson

“Are you coming out with me tonight?” Killian asks. I grab my towel, wrapping it around my waist, and rummage through my locker, trying to locate my phone. “I don’t know,” I reply. Killian groans, banging his head against the steel locker, muttering something incoherent under his breath. I grin, opening my phone, noticing I have a text from Alexis. It’s been a week since I woke her up from her nightmare, seven days since she told me what happened the day her brother died. My chest still aches as I replay her words in my head. The pain in her voice, the agony she must have felt when she found out what had happened, makes my stomach drop, like it did that night. When I cried hearing the pain in her voice, how she described it so vividly as if it had just happened and not fifteen years ago.

I hear a lot of excruciating stories. I’ve seen a lot of horrible things. But hearing her talk about that day tore my heart right out of my chest. I hated that I cried with her in my arms, because I wanted to be the one who comforted her, but in the end I was the one who needed comforting.

Her words still plague my mind. I’ve been restless ever since that night. The rage spikes up every time I think of the fact that the murderer, the man who terrorizes Alexis her dreams, is still out there, living his life as if he didn’t murder an innocent boy and scarred his sister for life.

How did they never catch the guy? How is it possible that he’s still walking free when he should be rotting in prison?

“Come on, man,” Killian pleads as he tames his wild curls. I ignore him, my body filled with anticipation as I open Alexis’s text. It’s a picture of her breakfast. She made blueberry pancakes, like I always do. She was still sleeping this morning, so I left her a note saying I would text her later.

I have always been able to sleep at work. But Alexis sends me voice memos sometimes of things she did so I could sleep better. Each time is a different story. Once she was walking on the beach, talking about things she and her best friend did in their teenage years. Other times she would be sitting at her dinner table, with her notepad in front of her, talking about what she’s drawing that day.

I don’t sleep as well as I do at Alexis’s house. I wake up sometimes, then I replay her voice memo, and fall right back asleep. I love being in her presence. She’s helping me sleep, but I’m also getting better at voicing my thoughts out loud. She’s really easy to talk to. The words come easily when I’m with her, and if I can talk to her, I could maybe be more present with my family and with Killian. I’ll never be an extrovert like my best friend, but he deserves someone to talk to. “Fine,” I agree. I never go out with Killian. Clubs are not my thing, but Killian enjoys it. He always does things that I want to do, so this time I’ll do something he likes. His face lights up. “Really?”

I nod, stepping into my sneakers. “Sure.”

He opens his mouth to talk when my phone rings. Alexis’s name flashes on the screen. “Hey, Sunshine, everything okay?” I’m met with silence and then a whisper.

“Not really.”

I stand up, alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

“Kane is here.” Oh, that fucking asshole. I promised I wouldn’t hurt him, but I’m not sure I can keep that promise if I see him outside her doorstep. I grab my keys. I’m almost to my car when Killian comes out running. “What’s—” He pants, leaning his hands on his knees. “Wrong?” I open the trunk, throwing my bag in it.

“Kane,” I say, voice hard, trying to contain the fury that’s rising with every second.

“With Alexis?” His voice rises an octave. I give him a curt nod, opening the driver’s side door with such force it creaks. The passenger side door opens. Killian closes it the moment my foot hits the gas pedal. I breathe in and out through my nose, trying to contain the anger. My fingers grip the wheel so tight my knuckles whiten.

“Cars?” Alexis questions. “You still there?”

Fuck I was so busy with getting to her house that I forgot we were calling.