Sinnerman

Chapter 46 Hunts & Prey

The wood was damp and patchy with sunshine as she was driven home. Afternoon light blazing ochre through tree trunks. The trees of which were now grey, weathered and worn down from the cold. She knows the feeling.

And all the golden-maple leaves had turned to orange soggy mush with some of the heavy rain that's pattered down. Cold looms bitter in the air. Turning breath to silvery wisps. Shedding all the beautiful orange and leaving bare dark wood in its place.

It had been sweet blessed relief getting a lungful of fresh winter air when she had come outdoors for the first time since she was admitted. Her body fed up of stale recycled hospital air. And fake bright light. The bitter-numb of cold chilling at her skin. Even though she was all wrapped up. She was glad to feel it.

Evie felt like her spirits had been sapped. Not only from the attack, and the surgery afterwards. But now she was starting to heal, only just, everything still felt raw. She felt like a still sore patch of nerves all bandaged up and wrapped tight. The stitches pull on her stomach. Like she'd been stitched together too tight. Ribs aching. She still feels groggy. Shredded to pieces by her ordeal.

-And by what Flo told her when she woke up. Seeing Kylo sat on the end of her bed had been no dream. She hasn't hallucinated. He had been there.

Until he wasn't.

Flo told her what she said when she finally woke up, the morning after her surgery. She didn't try and dart around the issue. She was much too headstrong and outspoken for that. Flo took a deep breath - took Evie's hand. Sat on the bed by her hip. And told her what he'd said.

'Tell her I had to make sure she'd stayed safe. That I left so she'd be protected.'

"Left?" Evie had asked Flo. Hysteria rising up to choke her throat.

She couldn't cry wracking sobs. It hurt too much. A couple tears had already carved down her cheeks. Spilling over the oxygen tube on her face.

But her heart hurt more. She nervously plucks at the covers with her fingers. Trying to tame her sadness, to keep her tears held back. It's a hard fight.

"Did he, uh. Say when he'll be back?" She adds. Voice sticky and thick.

"No. Sugar. He didn't." Flo has to tell her.

Evie's nodding. And then her face crumpled up. It stung the bruises and cuts on her face. She let herself fall to pieces.

She sags forwards into Flo. Who catches her in a hug.

"He's not coming back, is he?" Evie asks quietly.

Flo strokes her hair. Let's her sob. Let's her pained tears absorb into her shoulder. She doesn't hug too tight. But she can't not hold her at a time like this.

"I think he's out there doing something he feels he needs to- so that he can come back to ya." Flo explains.

Evie isn't quite so sure.

She was discharged five days after the accident. Prescribed a steady diet of strong pain pills, rest, and good food. Flo and Arthur had barely left her side. And now they were fetching her home.

She was resting her head on the back seat of Arthur's Buick. Cushioned on the big beige bench seat. The sun prickling warm at her cold still-bruised-and-cut face. Her breath fogging up the glass. Bundled up in plenty of layers Flo bought for her so she wouldn't get cold. Burberry coat. A big thick polo-neck jumper. Scarf. Big winter boots and jeans.

Arthur made a joke they weren't going to the arctic circle for an expedition. Flo frowns. Evie knows its just her showing her unique fussing way of caring.