Arrogant Heir (The Heirs 2)

The fucker’s been nothing but trouble.

A gasp for air from the girl grabs my attention, and the moment I look at her, Justin’s limp body drops from my hands.

Mila.

The split second of recognition feels like an eternity of torture as the horror sinks into my bones.

Those cries belonged to Mila.

Justin was on top of Mila.

I manage to make it to her side before my legs give way, and taking in the sight of how brutally Justin has hurt her, it feels as if someone just dug into my chest, ripping my heart right from it.

The pain is excruciating, paralyzing me.

“Mr. Reyes?” Dr. Bowes’ voice yanks me out of the dark thoughts. She reaches over to me, giving my hand a squeeze. “Are you okay?”

Clearing my throat, I say, “I’m fine.” I turn my gaze to Officer Lane. “Sorry, what was the question?”

Officer Lane gives me a sympathetic look. “Can you relay the happenings of last night in your own words?”

My heart sinks into a dark pit as I repeat my statement. With every word spilling from my lips, it feels like a chunk of my soul is being shredded until there’s nothing left but the turbulent mess of emotions whirling inside me.

If it’s so hard for me to talk about, I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for Mila.

The thought has me sitting upright, and I pay more attention to every detail I remember. I’ll answer the questions a million times if it means Mila doesn’t have to.Chapter 14MILAI feel like a caged animal. Helplessness weighs so heavily on me, I can’t make my body move from where I’m standing in the middle of the bathroom.

Endless torture-filled minutes pass before I can finally lift my eyes to the mirror. My reflection shocks the breath right out of my lungs, and filled with horror, I take in every bruise on my face. Each one is a reminder of what happened, and I quickly lower my eyes again. Tenderly, I lift my shirt and look at the dark bruises around my ribs.

I let the fabric fall over me, and my arms drop limply to my sides.

This place that’s become my life is … a wasteland. There’s nothing significant left. Every heartbeat feels futile.

I’m devastatingly empty, but at the same time, I’m filled with merciless turmoil. So many words to describe what I feel, but none of them really fit.

Fear? Can this really be fear? Every sound has me jumping. Every touch has me convulsing. It’s as if every single thing around me has the potential to hurt me.

The sheltered safety I always had is now gone.

Empty? No, not emptiness. I’m brimming with emotions, all hopeless, all dark, all brutal – and they’re stripping away the last of my sanity.

Tainted?

I lift my eyes to my reflection again, and the gruesome sight makes a sob escape. I cover my mouth with my right hand.

I’m ruined.

Distraught, I try to keep quiet as I cry.

There’s a knock at the door, and then I hear Dad call, “Mila, are you okay in there?”

Not able to trust my voice, I grab a towel and press it over my mouth to mute the sobs. My family has suffered enough. I have to be strong around them, so they’ll stop worrying.

I fight to push the rampant emotions down and clear my throat before I answer, “I’ll be out in five minutes.”

Turning on a faucet, I splash cold water over my face, trying to get rid of the evidence that I cried. I’m careful as I pat my skin dry and try to take a deep breath, but then the sharp ache in my chest reminds me to stick to shallow breaths. I hang the towel again and turn toward the door.

Knowing the sooner everyone goes on with their lives, the quicker I can forget this nightmare ever happened, I force a smile around my lips before I open the door and step into the room.

Mom’s eyes snap to me, and Dad spins around. It feels like I’m under a microscope, and I widen my smile as much as I can with the split lip. “You should go home. I’m just going to sleep.”

My parents keep staring at me as I gingerly climb back into the bed, then Mom says, “You look better. How do you feel?”

I shrug. The door to the room opens, and Jase comes in as I answer, “I’m fine, just bruised.” I let out an empty-sounding chuckle. “I just need to sleep, and you’ve both had a crazy night. Go home and get some rest.”

Jase comes to stand next to the bed, and knowing he must be tired as well, I say, “You should get some rest as well.”

He tilts his head, and our eyes only meet for a moment before I turn mine back to my parents. It’s really exhausting pretending to be okay, so they won’t worry.