The Fall of V (The Henchmen MC 13)

Finally free to display the desperation that had been bubbling under the surface for days - and I still didn't even exactly know how many days - it seeped into every word, something Iggy picked up on, not asking any more questions.

The screen popped out as I climbed up top the little plastic fake rock monstrosity that her parents used to hide the cap for the well, hauling myself up and in, finding that with all the adrenaline depleted, my arms and legs were feeling like Jell-O.

"Shower first?" she asked, making me suddenly wonder self-consciously if I actually smelled. I never smelled. Never. I made sure of it. It was pretty much universally accepted that stinky people were the type of people that no one else wanted to be around.

"While you make me food?" I asked, going automatically to her closet to drag out things that might fit me even though I was a few inches taller and a bit more narrow.

God, new clothes.

Fresh underwear.

There were some things you never realized it was even possible to take for granted until the luxury of them were taken from you.

"Of course. Yeah. I will make..."

"Not eggs," I demanded a bit frantically. "Or rice and beans."

"O...kay," she agreed, tone hesitant, questioning, but accepting of the agreement we had made.

"But, Iggs, a lot of it. Please," I said. If it was possible to hear hunger, you could hear it in my voice then.

She must have sensed it, too, because she gave me a rapid nod before shuffling quietly off.

I let myself in through a door inside her room that led into her own private full bath, something I had always been jealous of in the past, but now was just incredibly grateful for as I put the clothes down, grabbed a towel, turned on the water, and stripped out of the clothes that had been sticking to me with grime and sweat for hours, days.

I had always been a shower freak, having to listen to Fallon or Finn slamming on the door at home, annoyed that I was taking so long.

But this was different.

This wasn't about enjoyment per se.

This was about feeling like I needed to get not only the dirt and sweat and blood off of me, but the experience as a whole.

A useless task.

I scrubbed until my skin was red and aching from the attention, but still felt a slime covering me, an invisible coat of anger, helplessness, disgust, hunger, and fear that I was worried would always be a part of me, always be a reminder of what I had been through, even if I managed to move on from it.

If.

"Here, let me do that," Iggy offered as I pulled out a first aid kit from under her sink to deal with my feet. I had scrubbed the dirt off as best I could with how raw they were, but was not looking forward to treating and dressing them. "You sit. Eat," she invited, holding out a plate stacked with sandwiches, thick with meat and cheese, bright green romaine peeking out from under the rye bread.

My stomach groaned as I dropped my butt down on the top of the toilet, taking the plate while kicking up my legs on her lap as she sat off the side of the tub, digging through the kit to find witch hazel and triple antibiotic.

"Okay," she said when I was on my third half sandwich, finding the hole in my belly felt no more full than it had been before I started eating. "Talk to me, Ferr," she asked, securing the gauze on my foot with tape.

I did.

Words tumbling out of trembling lips, knowing that if there was a single person in the world who I could trust with my vulnerability, it was Iggy.

"That bitch," she snapped when I finished, shoving half of a sandwich whole into my mouth, chewing until my jaw hurt. "I'm so sorry," she added.

"I need to do something, Iggs," I said, heart fluttering around at even thinking about speaking these awful thoughts aloud.

"What?"

"I need to go."

"Go?" she asked, eyes small.

"I don't understand it either," I agreed, looking away, feeling my eyes glistening. "But I need to go."

"Go where?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Somewhere that someone can turn me into a weapon," I added, cringing at how silly those words sounded spoken aloud.

"But, Ferr, wouldn't Hailstorm be the place for that?"

"Maybe," I agreed, nodding. "But they have trained me all my life. I barely held my own."

"You were surprised," she corrected, likely meaning when the men caught me from behind.

"I never should have been surprised. I never should have hesitated. I think... having my dad as my dad and my aunts and uncles as my aunts and uncles has always given me this safety net, this false sense of security. But it is false. This whole situation just proved that I'm not safer because of them. I am at a much bigger risk."