Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
With a deep breath, I put the hairbrush aside, my hands trembling. An hour of trying to detangle Blair’s hair and an hour of her telling me it’s not painful, it’s finally done. The hairbrush is filled with hair, and I quickly clean it before Blair can see it.
She turns to look at me, and my heart clenches at the sight of her. She’s pale, she’s lost so much weight, and the little life I was able to bring back to her eyes is now gone.
“Freya will do an exam on you. Will that be okay?”
She pauses for a moment, then nods.
“Do you want me in the room?”
Hesitantly, she shakes her head. “No. I’d prefer if it’s just Freya and me.”
“Of course, butterfly.”
As if on cue, Freya strolls into the manor. She’s carrying a bag with her, and uncharacteristically, her eyes are softer than usual. She’s known for being, well, a bitch. Yet, right now, there’s something behind her eyes that tells me she’ll approach this situation delicately.
“Blair,” Freya speaks, taking a seat across from her on the opposite couch, leaving enough room between them. “How are you feeling?”
“Just a little hungry.”
My ears perk. “Anything in particular you’d like to eat?”
“Meat, of any sort. Please?”
My heart squeezes at the plea in her voice, jaw tightening harshly. “Of course. I’ll have something ready by the time you two are finished. Let me know if you need anything.”
Blair nods, offering a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
With one last, lingering glance at her, I leave the two of them alone, walking into the kitchen.
I’m lucky that Mom is big on having the fridge stuffed at all times, and it’s not hard for me to pull out some ingredients and start assembling a meal.
While the chicken is in the pan, the smell of many seasonings lingering in the air, my eyes flick to my wristwatch. It’s late, and there’s no sight of Mom or Dad. I trust them enough that they’re able to handle themselves, but the fact that they ended up not showing up at the location is irking me.
After I took Blair out of that hellhole, Cove sent me a message.
Simmons is alive, injured, but it’s not fatal.
He’s being taken care of properly and will not be able to escape.
X has dipped again, and Raven, Niko, and Lucas took care of everyone else.
Kaya burned them all to the ground afterwards, leaving no bodies behind.
From what Cove told me, she was sitting close to the fire, with a bottle of whiskey in her hands, observing and admiring it.
Time ticks painfully slow, my mind switching between worrying about my parents and wondering why the hell Freya’s taking this long. The timer on the kitchen counter ticks, and I remove the cheesy, saucy chicken from the pan, putting it on a plate with some of Blair’s favorite vegetables.
My hand reaches for the small cabinet filled with alcohol, and I quickly pick a good-quality whiskey.
Dad will probably be pissed I took one out of his collection, but I can’t bring myself to care.
At this point, any and all alcohol that reaches my mouth tastes like water.
It slides down my throat with ease, with no burning sensations or trouble swallowing it down.
Sound of footsteps approaching makes me pause, and I put the bottle away, anticipating Freya’s entrance. Soon enough, she walks through the door, looking between me and the plate. Her brows narrow, nose scrunching a little.
“How is she?”
She steps further into the room, sighing.
“Physically? She’ll be okay. She’s lost a lot of weight, and it’s important she’s introduced to proper, balanced meals slowly.
Don’t just feed her enormous amounts; she’ll struggle with that.
There are a lot of bruises all over her body, but they will all heal, and nothing’s been broken. But…’’
“Yes?”
Freya pauses, and I see a flicker of genuine sorrow for Blair flash in her eyes. It’s sincere, and for once in her life, she’s trying to find words to say instead of blurting out whatever comes to mind.
“I also did a rape kit. Usually, it’s supposed to be done within the first seventy-two hours of the assault, because bodies can start healing and remove traces of it. In some cases, if the injuries are more severe, the evidence will stay.’’
“And?”
Freya’s expression tells me everything I need to know.
I slump into the chair nearby, a range of emotions flooding me.
Rage, pain, and an utter and complete feeling of failure.
It’s all my fault. If I had gotten to her quicker, it might not have happened.
If I had never allowed her out of my sight, she never would’ve been taken away from me.
“Listen, Arlo,’’ Freya takes a reluctant step closer, and I can barely see her through the tears that swell in my eyes.
“Blair… doesn’t remember it happening. She blacked out.
Her mind was trying to protect her. All I can say is that she’s one strong woman.
And I don’t say that to just anyone. She needs you now, more than ever.
Because the moment those memories resurface, I cannot guarantee how she’ll react.
She blames herself for all of this already. ”
“She what?!”
Freya nods, and I close my eyes, then wipe off the tears. “I’d recommend she speaks to someone professionally. She’ll need it.”
“Where is she now?”
“I ran a bath for her, she’s taking it. She needs time to process it all. Just be patient with her. If you need anything else, just call me.”
Freya leaves, and I’m all alone. It’s as though someone had run me over with a truck, and a part of me died.
I’m not sure what hurts more, the thought of Blair blaming herself for all of this, or the fact that it was my fault, not hers.
The guilt starts to rip me on the inside, and it feels like I’m dying.
My hands find the bottle of whiskey again, and I start gulping it all down, and before I realize it, I've drunk more than half of the bottle. I squeeze it in my hand, tightly, unsure of how to proceed.
Aria’s in the hospital, Mom and Dad have gone MIA, and Blair’s suffering. I’m to blame for all of it. For not seeing Aria’s pain, for telling Mom and Dad to follow me, and for not protecting Blair in time. The most important people in my life are suffering, and I can’t do anything to help them.
I’m fucking useless and fucking pathetic.
When Blair enters the kitchen, the pain intensifies. Her hair is wet, and she’s wearing a pair of my sweats with my shirt, both of which are two sizes too big on her. There’s a small smile on her lips when she sees the food, and I push the plate toward the empty seat next to me.
“Smells delicious,” she notes, sitting down and starting to eat. My eyes don’t leave her face, and I don’t miss the sigh of content that slips from her lips. I let her eat in silence, not wanting to interrupt her.
My eyes roam all over her. Her fingers are more slender than I remember, her arms and legs thinner. Her complexion is paler, and when I notice the bruises all over her body, I’m barely suppressing the urge to kill Simmons myself.
But I can’t.
He’s Blair’s to kill.
She finishes half of the plate, then pushes it away from her and turns to look at me. “Where are Noah and Hudson?”
“They should be home soon.”
The lie slips from me with ease. I’m not sure where the fuck the two are, or if they’re even alive. Raven and Kaya are trying to track them down right now, and they’ve started by going to the place Mom and Dad had the shootout at.
“What about Aria?”
I pause. Blair should know — hell, she’ll find out eventually. With a deep breath, I softly reach for her hand, observing her reaction. Her brows narrow in confusion, but she tangles her fingers with mine, and I swallow thickly.
“Aria’s in the hospital.”
Blair’s eyes widen, worry flashing through them. “What? Why? Is she okay?”
“She…,” I pause, my throat tightening. “She attempted suicide.’’
My words are barely above a whisper, but judging by the way her hand tightens around mine, her face pales further, and her eyes widen, I know she heard me. For a beat, it’s silent. Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she clears her throat.
“Oh my God,” she whispers. “Why?”
“She was in an abusive relationship, and none of us noticed. That guilt is something I’ll forever be living with, even though she’s going to make a full recovery.”
“How?”
“She slit her wrists open. Mom and I found her.”
Blair takes in a sharp intake of breath, eyes closing momentarily. Then, unexpectedly, she pulls me into a tight hug. Her face is buried in my chest, and my arms wrap around her, pulling her to sit on my lap. She snuggles into me, and my heart skips a beat.
Even though she survived through horror, she still trusts me to hold her like this. And that’s something I’ll never take for granted.
My fingers run through her wet hair, and I allow myself to break a little. Is it pathetic, especially given what she’s gone through? Yes, but the fact that she’s trying her best to comfort me makes me love her even more.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, voice muffled by my shirt. She pulls back a little, genuine pain on her face for my little sister. “I noticed a while back that she had some bruises. She said they were volleyball injuries.”
“She told me the same thing. I should’ve pried more. I should’ve done anything to prevent it from becoming this bad. It’s all my fault.”
Blair’s eyes harden as she looks at me.
“Excuse me?”
The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop them.
“It’s all my fault. I didn’t notice her withdrawing from me until it was too late.
I didn’t notice her pain until she tried taking her own life.
It’s all my fucking fault. Then… there’s you.
I failed you, butterfly. I failed you so fucking badly.
You were kidnapped because of me. You relived your worst nightmares, your biggest trauma, because of me.
It’s my fault I didn’t get to you in time before they hurt you.
If I’d been smarter, quicker, and better, you wouldn’t have gone through this.
I’m so sorry, Blair. I’m so sorry for being useless. ’’
The impact hits me immediately, her palm connecting with my cheek. When I look back at her, I still feel her hand linger on my skin. Her eyes are full of angry tears, rolling down her face. Her jaw is clenched tightly, and her hand is trembling as she lowers it.
“Don’t you ever fucking say it again.” The pain in her voice shoots through me, and as soon as tears start sliding down her face, I start hating myself even more for letting that little rant leave my mouth.
“It wasn’t your fault. None of this is your fault, do you understand me?
It’s Aria’s ex-boyfriend to blame. It’s Simmons to blame.
Not you. Never, ever you, Arlo. You believed me when no one else did; you saved me from the hell I’ve been forced into twice.
Please, don’t ever say it again. Because hearing that makes me hurt even more. ’’
The raw emotions in her trembling voice reach me, and all I can do is nod wordlessly. It doesn’t erase the guilt or the shame that I’m feeling, but knowing that Blair doesn’t blame me does lift the weight off my shoulders a little.
“I’m sorry.”
Blair shakes her head. “Don’t apologize.”
“But—”
With a sigh, Blair cuts me off by cupping my cheeks and kissing me.