Page 178 of Where Broken Wings Fly

Get out here immediately.

Else I’ll beat Arianna black and blue.

“Stand back, I can pick the lock.”

The hammering on the door ceases.

“Zach, hurry!”

“I’m trying, dammit.”

I ignore the click of the lock being picked. All I can see is the splash of blood flowing from my arm. It’s proof of all the twisted feelings that have been choking me for so long. I can finally see them in the flesh.

There’s a gasp, followed by a deep growl of fury. I don’t want them to see me like this, but I have no strength to hold it in anymore. This is the real me, beneath the smiles and bravado. This is the person they love.

“Get out,” I hear Micah order.

“Like hell. Move out of the way.”

“I know how to handle this, not you,” he argues in a hard voice. “Give us some space and get the first aid kit from across the street. She’ll need stitches.”

“Come on, Kill,” Zach mutters.

With my eyes squeezed shut, I listen to their footsteps moving away from the bathroom. The door clicks shut again, and fingertips gently brush across my forehead. The hair is swiped from my face, revealing two frightened green eyes.

“What have you done to yourself, beautiful?”

“Micah?” I gasp.

“I’m here, Willow.”

“The others…”

“It’s just me. I sent them away. Reckon you can take a breath for me?”

Micah’s kneeling beside the bathtub, the corner of his mouth tilted up in a weak smile that he’s plastering on for my benefit. I’m glad it’s him. He’s the only one that has seen the thread of darkness sliding through my veins before.

Nodding, I grit my teeth and attempt to suck air in. Micah follows, blowing it out, and miming sucking in again. With his hand cupping my neck, I breathe a little better.

“I need to take a look at your arm. Keep breathing for me, alright?”

“Okay,” I wheeze.

Turning his attention to my blood-slick arm, he grabs a hand towel to hold against the deep slices I inflicted. The pain barely registers in my numb mind. Micah adds pressure, clasping on both sides of my forearm to stem the bleeding.

“You’re okay,” he repeats under his breath.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Mi.”

“Stop, Willow. You don’t have to apologise.”

“I… I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You’re hurting right now,” he explains simply. “Sometimes the only way to make sense of the pain we feel on the inside is to see it physically on the outside.”

I bite my lip. “I needed it all to stop.”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, believe me. I’m going to lift you up now, and I want you to hold on to my neck. Can you do that?”

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