Reece's Haven

40: Reece

After staring at each other for a bit more, she nods tentatively. I then lift her jumper up slowly, but what I see compels anger to take over my being.

Swollen, red rings are peppered across her stomach. As I inspect them further, trying my best to remain composed, I am relieved that there are no blisters.

"They look like first degree burns..." I say, pulling out a pair of tuff cut scissors from the Kit. "I can treat them."

"I can do it myself–"

"You can barely sit up on your own, Dorothy," I say, looking at her. "Joanna left you in my care. Just trust me, ok?"

"...Alright," she says, closing her eyes.

Using the scissors, I snip at the hem of her jumper. Then, I tear her jumper apart, revealing her black camisole. I pour the remaining water in her glass into the bowl and throw in some ice cubes. Pulling out a clean cloth, I soak it in the bowl and squeeze the excess water out before I gently drape it over her bare stomach. At the contact, Dorothy shivers.

My fingers then graze her skin as I gently pull down her straps until her shoulders are bare, acquiring the taste of how soft and smooth her skin is. Ignoring the temptation to caress her, I proceed to soak another cloth before placing it over her collarbones. I then clean the cut, which is not deep enough for stitches fortunately, on her neck.

The effects of the ibuprofen start to set in as her groans begin to be subdued and the tension in her body melts away. I hold her ghostly pale hand, gently stroking the back of it. Her eyes flutter open and land on me.

"Reece..." she whispers.

I lean closer to her.

"How are you feeling?" I whisper back.

"...I'm sorry for pushing you away."

"Shh... You shouldn't be apologi–"

"If I hadn't..." she croaks. "I don't think this would have happened..."

My heart aches at the tears welling in her eyes.

"Who did this to you?" I ask.

"Monica..." she says, with her lower lip trembling.

I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath in to calm the whirlwind of fury that is building within me.

"Jared..." she continues, adding more fuel to the fire. "Their friends... Luna."

At the mention of Luna, I frown.

Isn't Luna her friend?

Before I can ask her to elaborate, tears roll down her cheeks. Pained to see her in such a state, I move to her bed, wrapping her small frame with my left arm and allowing her head to rest on my chest. In between her sobs, she tells me what Monica and Jared had done to her.

When she finishes, I am enraged. Actually, enraged in an understatement. But at the same time, guilt is eating me alive.

I had let her harm Dorothy. If I hadn't, she would not have dared to continue hurting her.

With pursed lips, I helplessly watch Dorothy cry silently until sleep takes over her. Gently, yet reluctantly, I peel her away from me. I then follow my murderous instincts, leaving her house and heading towards my car.

I pull out my phone, which has about a dozen missed calls from Dave. I call him back.

"Bloody hell, Reece! Where have you bee–"

"I'm not coming over, Dave," I say, sliding onto the driver's seat.

"But... But... But... Why?" he whines.