“Is that so?”
“Don’t underestimate me, Jonathan. I lived on the streets for way too long. I can cause you damage.”
“Then why aren’t you?”
She lifts the hand that was limp by her side only moments ago. I thought she was only bleeding because she reopened her wound, but turns it out, she’s been squeezing a shard of glass. She points it at my neck, her breathing still chopped and uneven, but her eyes are blazing with sure determination.
This fucking woman has no thought for her safety whatsoever if she was holding a shard of glass against her already wounded palm. Or maybe an injury or two doesn’t matter to her as long as she gets to run.
She’s an expert at that.
Running the fuck away.
“What are you going to do with that, Aurora? Are you going to slice my throat?”
“I will if you don’t let me go.”
“The only way I’ll let you out is if you fucking talk, so you might as well go for it.”
“I can’t stay here.”
“Why not?”
“I just can’t.” Her voice breaks.
“Try again.”
“Let me go, Jonathan, please.”
“No.”
“I’ll hurt you.”
“Do it.”
“I really will.”
“Fucking do it then.”
She pushes the shard against my throat and I see the widening of her eyes before I feel the sting of the cut.
Then my blood flows to her face.
10
Aurora
Hot liquid lands on my cheek, my nose, my mouth, and I taste metal.
Blood metal.
Oh my God. Oh my God.
My hand shakes uncontrollably and I release the shard of glass, letting it fall to the mattress. The blood mars the white sheets, soaking them red.
No, no…
Flashbacks from that day slam into me. The bloodshot eyes, the vacant look, the blood that trickled down her arms.