Chapter One
Theadora
“Thea.” Lucy’s voice is soft, and I angrily wipe away the tears that are streaming down my face. I don’t know why I’m crying. Now is not the time. I need to move, not sit here, wiping at tears that aren’t deserved. I hear sirens coming closer.
Lucy touches my arm and squeezes. “Thea, I loved him.”
I scrunch my nose up as Lucy lays her head back, slouching on my couch, my hand firmly on her leg holding the blanket in place. I know it’s helping and can’t move it because the pressure is slowing the bleeding, although the blood has seeped up and through my fingers and is now pooling on top of my hand.
“Don’t worry.” I shake my head.
“I loved Atlas, Thea, not Benji.” She closes her eyes, her face seeming to go ghostly white. “I love him, Thea. And I hate that he loves you,” she states.
As the sirens grow louder, I shudder.
Finally, I hear a knock on my door and yell, “In here.”
The door is pushed open and in walks two EMT. They take over the pressure, and I manage to move away as they assess her. Before too long passes, they have her on a gurney and are wheeling her out of my home.
The next to arrive are two detectives who walk in and immediately look over at Nicholas, who’s still on my floor covered in blood.
They question me.
Ask me questions I can’t answer for what seems like hours while they mark out the crime scene in front of me.
Tears stream down my face as the coroner steps in, removes Nicholas’s body, leaving the floor covered in blood and an outline drawn by detectives.
Hours pass, as detectives mark out and take photographs of the crime scene. More detectives arrive, take samples, then leave. This seems to go on forever, but time for me seems to be at a standstill. It’s like watching a slow-motion movie playing out in front of me and not knowing how to stop it.
Having no idea of time, or even if it’s the same day, I watch as everyone leaves my house after they have finished their investigations. This is when I finally look over at the spot—the place where Nicholas died on my floor—and wonder how I’m meant to get the blood out of the carpet. My eyes then move to my couch, which is smothered in Benji’s blood, and I know I will need to purchase a new one.
After a thorough investigation, the detectives ruled the death of Nicholas was self-defense and Atlas was cleared. The injuries to my sister and Benji were caused by Nicholas, therefore the detectives investigating were happy to close the case. Although they were not happy with Atlas moving the body, Atlas does what Atlas wants so it’s no surprise there.
My hand flies to my mouth at that thought. Benji. Oh gosh, even with what he did to me, I would never wish death on him.
Ever.
Benji loved my sister so fiercely it scared me, and I don’t think I can ever find a love like that.
I had hope for Atlas. That somehow, in some way, even with our rocky start, the ending would be so much better for us.
He gave me false hope.
Then he crushed it.
And crushed my heart along the way.
Somehow, I manage to crawl to my bathroom. I have to get to the hospital and check on my sister, but as I look down at my blood-stained clothes I know I have to change.
My hands rip at my clothes, tearing them from my body and dropping them in the corner before I stand in the shower. I let the cold water wash away all the blood, squeezing my eyes shut because I don’t want to see it wash down the drain.
When I manage to open them, I’m hesitant to look down. Once I get up the nerve, I check, and the water is running clear. I finish washing, then get out and quickly dress before walking to the door to head to the hospital.
When I open my front door, Sydney, Atlas’s assistant is standing there, her hand raised ready to knock. She looks me over, and then quickly rights herself before she glances at me in the eyes. “Atlas has decided your debt has been paid and he no longer requires to see you.” My hand clenches at my side. “You still have your job, though.” She turns to leave.
“Sydney.” She stops and spins back toward me.
“Yes?” she questions.
“Does he hate me?”
“Yes.” With that one word answer, she turns and slides into her car, the driver taking off without hesitation. I don’t have time to dwell on that little confrontation. Let’s face it, I shouldn’t care if he hates me or not, but for some reason I do.
Arriving at the hospital, I head straight to Lucy. She needed stitches in her leg and lost a lot of blood, so she will have to stay in for observation for at least a day. When I step into her room, she looks away as I enter.