18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
Levi
I park my truck a few houses down from Sunny's and quietly slip out. I don't want to make any more noise than I have to. There's no telling what I'm about to walk into but I know I should be prepared for anything.
Leaving my mom was the hardest thing I've ever done. There was nothing I could do for her though. I was too late. I should've been there, and I wasn't and there's nothing I can do to fix or change that now.
But for Sunny? Maybe it's not too late. Maybe I still have time. I have to believe that. It's the only thing keeping me standing. I can't lose them both.
The neighborhood's quiet for this early on a Saturday night. There are only a few cars in the driveways up and down the street, and most of the houses are dark. I stop at the end of Sunny's driveway, scanning the house, the yard, for movement or sounds, or anything out of place. From here, I can see the front door to the house is wide open. The house is dark inside—pitch black except for a faint glow coming from a room on the second floor. Sunny's bedroom.
I make my way to the porch and stand, staring into the doorway. Every instinct I have is telling me to run inside and find her, but I'm frozen—locked in place with a heavy sense of dread unlike anything I've ever felt. Fear isn't something I'm used to, but right now? I'm terrified. My mind races through a million different scenarios, each one worse than the last.
I can feel it. The same stillness, the same weighted silence I felt at home right before I found my mom. My chest tightens and the blood in my veins turns to ice.
Please let her be okay.
I whisper the words over and over even though each passing second makes me more positive that this is the last moment anything will ever be okay. The certainty of it settles deep into my bones. I take another step forward, coming to stand just inside the door. I close my eyes and open them slowly, giving them time to adjust to the darkness.
I step deeper inside, listening. There's nothing but empty silence. If anything happened here it's over now. My breath hitches as the room comes into shadowy focus. The front room looks the same as always. I'm ready to breathe a sigh of relief, but then, I see it.
Dark streaks smeared across the door frame leading into the kitchen. Stains, like small drips of black ink making a trail on the carpet, leading up the stairs. The scuffed wooden floor at my feet is a maze of boot prints. Bloody boot prints.
My stomach twists, my hands clenching into fists so tight my knuckles crack. There’s so much blood. Too much. I follow the trail up the stairs, even as my mind screams for me to turn around, to go back. But I can't. I have to know. I have to find her. Adrenaline pushes me forward.
The air at the top of the stairs is thick, suffocating. The hallway leading to her room is littered with evidence of a struggle. Broken picture frames lay in piles of shattered glass, books with broken spines and torn pages are stomped into the carpet. The door to Sunny's room is cracked open, casting dim yellow streaks of light along the walls. Every part of me is screaming in panic, but I can’t stop now. Not when I’m this close. I press a shaking hand to the door and push it open, slowly.
My eyes are filled with red—a hundred different shades of the color are splashed on the walls, the door, the edge of the bed. And in the center of it all is my Angel. Pale, as if she were carved out of marble. The stark white of her skin is a deep contrast to the sea of crimson that covers her skin, her dress, her tangled and matted hair, the floor around her. And she’s… she’s not moving.
Tears well in my eyes. The beautiful dress I bought her is ripped to shreds, the wet scraps clinging to her body. Her face is swollen, covered in the same deep purple and dark blue bruises that cover the rest of her. A series of deep slashes are carved into her chest from her collarbone to her ribs. There's so much blood. So much fucking blood that it's hard to imagine it's all hers.
My knees buckle before I even realize I’ve moved, and I fall to the floor next to her, my hands reaching out for her, aching to feel her warmth. But she’s cold. So cold. And so still. I stare at her, willing her to move. But she doesn't. Her chest doesn’t rise. Her lips don’t part. Her eyes stay closed tight.
When I grab her wrist and lift it, her hand falls to the side, limp and twisted awkwardly, her fingers bent at impossible angles. Bile rises in my throat at the sickening feel of bone grinding against bone. I close my eyes for a second, swallowing hard. I lower her hand gently and reach for the other one.
My pulse thunders through my body so loud I can barely think. My hands won’t stop shaking as I press unsteady fingers to the soft skin of her wrist. As I wait, I graze my lips over her fingers, kissing each one, tasting copper and the salt of the tears that are now streaming down my face.
"Sunny." Her name escapes as barely a whisper, my voice shaking. I close my eyes, my fingers still pressed to her wrist, waiting.
Please, just one beat. One thump. Let there be something... anything.
I sit motionless, straining for the faintest flutter, the slightest thrum. My hands are trembling, and the air feels heavy with static. My breath comes in ragged gasps, drowning out everything else.
There’s nothing there.
My heart seizes and my eyes burn—I lower her hand and press my ear to her lips, hoping for a sound, a breath, anything to tell me I’m wrong.
The silence seems to grow louder, pressing into my ears, filling me until there’s only her cold stillness and the endless echo of my own heartbeat.
She's gone.
A strangled sound escapes me, something between a sob and a scream, and my whole body shudders. I grab her, pulling her limp body into my arms, her blood soaking my clothes, smearing across my hands, my face, but I don’t care. I don’t fucking care.
I shake her, gently at first, then harder. A small stream of bright red blood trickles from the corner of her mouth. “Sunny. Please. Please… wake up.”
Nothing.
The world crashes down around me, and all I can do is stare at her, my mind refusing to believe what’s right in front of me. She can’t be gone. She can’t be gone . Not like this. Not because of him .
Garrett.
My body is numb, my mind barely able to process everything that's happened tonight, the overwhelming hollowness inside me. First my mom. Now Sunny. He’s taken everything and everyone that matters away from me.
And I let it happen.
The guilt slams into me, hard and brutal, ripping through me and tearing me apart. I ignored her calls. She needed me, and I wasn’t there . I promised her I'd be there for her. I said I'd keep her safe, no one would ever hurt again and I wasn’t fucking here for her. Not when it mattered.
My chest heaves with a pain so deep I feel it in every muscle of my body. I tilt my head back and scream—a raw, animal howl that tears through the silence. It goes on and on until there’s nothing left inside me. I clutch Sunny close to me, my hands slick with her blood. I want to stay like this. I'm not ready to let go of her. But, I know I have to.
I reach into my pocket, pulling out my phone. The thought of reporting this, of giving voice to what's happened tonight, making it real, turns my stomach. The thought of anyone—everyone—seeing the two women I love more than anything else in the world reduced to this… guts me. But I can't walk away now. I'm responsible for this. I need to make sure they're going to be taken care of. I failed them in every other way that mattered, I have to do this for them.
My fingers shake as I dial 911. I barely hear the operator’s voice before the words start tumbling out.
“There’s been…an attack.” My voice breaks, and I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting to keep control. “Two addresses. One…” I give my address, barely recognizing the emotionless, detached tone of my own voice.
“And the other—” I choke, but I force the words out. “The other’s here, at….” I recite Sunny’s address, holding her tighter, my voice turning to ground glass in my throat with every word. “It’s bad. They’re gone. Both of them. I wasn’t here. I should’ve been here, but I wasn’t. It's all my fault. I did this—”
“Sir, please remain on the line. Units are on the way—”
I’m already moving, my voice a broken rasp as I cut her off. “Make sure they take care of them. They deserve that.”
I end the call before she can say anything else, and the silence around me settles in again. My vision blurs as I look down at Sunny one last time. This is it. This is my last goodbye, and then there’s nothing left for me. Nothing left but him.
Something glints in the dim light, catching my eye. The silver heart necklace I gave her lies broken on the floor, partially hidden under the bed, its chain snapped and smeared with blood. My hands shake as I pick it up, the metal cool and sticky against my palm.
I slip it into my pocket, unable to leave this piece of her behind. Unable to let him take everything.
I have things I need to take care of. Things I have to do. I have a new purpose.
I stand, shaking, Sunny's blood drying on my skin as the world blurs around me. There’s only one thought that slices through the haze—one clear thought that leaves me breathless:
Garrett will pay for this.
The cops can fuck themselves. This piece of justice won’t be theirs to decide. Not for Sunny. Not for my mom.
This is mine. He’s mine.