His fists are dripping in blood.
The screams.
I’m going to be sick.
I just make it in time to empty my stomach into the toilet, tears streaming down my face as I heave. I shudder when it finally ends, my body crumpled on the ground in front of the toilet. There’s no time to stop. I don’t know how long I have until Sebastian orEastonrealises I’m gone and comes looking for me, but I can’t make my limbs work.
Now that I’ve stopped, my ankle throbs almost as bad as it did when I first hurt it.
Taking long, deep breaths, I slowly unfold myself from the floor, wincing at the pain. I turn on the tap and scoop some water into my mouth but quickly spit it out when it makes me want to vomit again.
The last thing I want to do is look at myself, but my eyes lift to the mirror of their own accord. My skin is clammy and pale, and my hair hangs in a messy, half-undone braid. My eyes are dull, and I turn away from the mirror, hating that whenever I look at them, all I see arehiseyes.
Returning to my room, I throw the last couple of things in my bag before pulling the chair out and fumbling for my journal on the top shelf of the wardrobe.
I make sure it’s tucked securely away in my backpack, so there’s no chance of it falling out this time.
One last thing.
Sliding the top drawer of the bedside table open, I—
Where is it?
I open the other drawers, searching for my camera.
When it’s not there, I go to the other side of the bed and pull open those drawers as well.
Nothing.
I groan, not sure I can take on any more emotions right now. A tear slips down my face because I know I’m going to have to leave without it. It might’ve been broken, but it was stillhers.
The only thing I had left.
Shadow whines from the doorway, and my heart aches.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
But it aches even more, knowing I’m leaving Sebastian as well.
Throwing my backpack over my shoulders, I head straight for the lift, and it opens immediately, not having left the floor. Taking a deep breath, I step inside.
Shadow barks, and I jump, but I don’t turn around. Because if I do, I’m not sure I’d be able to make myself leave, no matter the consequences that would await.
The doors slide shut, and I take the lift to the garage floor so I don’t have to go through the main foyer.
The street is relatively quiet, being a Tuesday night, and I easily get a taxi, making sure I have money on me this time. It’s not much, but it should be enough.
It’s only a five-minute drive to Obsidian, but in this state, it would have taken me forever to walk there.
A bouncer stands at the front entrance, and a newfound determination flows through me. I wouldn’t have thought they’d be open to the public at all tonight, but the only thing that had kept me going was the small hope there might be someone inside.
Paying my fare, I get out of the taxi before making my way to the burly bouncer. He stands well above me, my head only reaching his chest, and I clear my throat. “I need to see Lucas Hale,” I say.
He gazes down at me through heavy brows, looking me up and down. “Mr. Hale is not available,” he says, looking away—basically acting like I don’t exist.
“It’s important,” I say, but he doesn’t even acknowledge me.
Two men in tailored suits approach us, reeking of money and entitlement. Each of them pulls out some kind of card, flashing them towards the bouncer. He glances at them before opening the door and letting them in.