Chapter 42

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— Chapter 42 —
Overstepping Boundaries

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N O A H

It caressed me in its soft embrace.

The water.

Pooling around the lower half of my body in the bathtub, the water left my sweatpants soaked and clinging to every inch of my legs.

But it wasn't enough to wash the blood off my hands.

Or maybe the blood wasn't there at all.

I kept tracing my focus over the ridges of my fingers, seeing my hands glossed over with thick crimson. The weight of it... the blood... I could feel it. It was burning my skin like acid.

But then I'd dip my hands into the water.

And just like that, it was gone. No blood. No scarlet stains. Not even a speck of dirt beneath my fingernails. None of the scorching sensations where the blood once was.

Just my own shaky hands.

"I'm going to wash your hair now," a voice whispered behind me. "Is that okay?"

The only reply Elliot got from me was the slow blinking of my heavy eyelids. It wasn't that I wasn't grateful he was here... I just couldn't say anything anymore. Not that anything I said ever really mattered.

My gaze drew back to the hands I'd submerged beneath the rippling water. The power had come back on in the last hour, so the bathroom was warmed by a heater fixed up in the ceiling. Elliot sat on the edge of the bathtub behind me, with my figure between his legs. My soaked sweats weren't the most comfortable to sit in, but I figured that was my fault for not complying with Elliot when he'd told me to take them off.

He figured that a bath would help me relax. That, and wash off the scent of alcohol I'd been drowning in earlier tonight.

Elliot spoke quietly, "Alright."

Squeezing the shampoo liquid into his palms, he briefly lathered it between them and promised, "I'll be gentle."

As he sank his fingers through my dark hair, I couldn't help but feel the chills traveling down my spine. Elliot was certainly careful with his actions, softly lathering the soap into my hair while droplets of water trickled onto my thick lashes. It was all too soothing.

I couldn't tell if the lightning had subsided or not. Between the blood on my hands, the scorching pain in my stitched side, and the aching of my tensed muscles, I could still hear the cracking in my eardrums. It wasn't lightning to me. It was gunfire.

The sound ricocheted in my pounding skull, striking my nerves and making me want to scream. But I didn't even have the air in my lungs to do so. No... all I had was the grim reaper looming behind me, breathing cold air down my neck, promising that I'd come with him willingly soon enough.

But the gunfire had died down since Elliot had come to find me. Sometimes it would strike out of nowhere in my head and make me recoil instinctively—but I always had Elliot there, resting a hand on my shoulder and reminding me I was still with him. That I was safe.

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