She’s pretty, but she’s fucking vicious.
“She went to powder her nose a few minutes ago, but I haven’t seen her come out of the restroom,” Jennifer says.
“Asher,” Zach greets me with repulsion.
“Zach,” I say with the same apprehension. He has his hand lying against the wall above Jennifer’s head, and she is leaning her back against it, clearly enjoying his presence.
I don’t know why. He has nothing to offer her.
I place a kiss on her temple, smelling the ungodly amount of hairspray and try no sneeze. “Thanks, Jenn. Have fun tonight.” I lower my voice to a whisper, “You can do better than this guy.”
“I know,” she giggles. “But he is fun.”
I roll my eyes and walk down the corridor, passing paintings and self-portraits of snooty rich people. My parents and I have one over our fireplace, and it is the most pretentious thing I’ve ever seen.
Walking under a chandelier, my Italian leather shoes echo with every step I take. I lift my fist and knock on the door to the restroom. “Grace? You there?” I wait for her to answer, but it’s quiet. I try the knob and it’s unlocked; risking seeing her with her panties down, I open the door but find the space empty. “Huh,” I say just as a door closes behind me in the background. I turn around, but all I see is a guy I don’t recognize from behind. He has brown hair, but I can’t see his face since he is walking away from me.
More like running away.
Curious, I stroll to the door he just ran out of, and when I get to the room, my instincts scream at me that something bad happened because there is a smear of red on the door. It could be many things. Maybe it’s red wine.
My gut says it isn’t.
I open the door, and the room is encased in darkness. “Hello? Is someone in here? Are you okay?” I enter, allowing the light to illuminate the bedroom. There is a four-post bed in the middle and a fireplace off to the side. I hear a moan coming from the bed, but it’s neatly made, and no one laying on it. “Hello?” I call out again.
Another groan sounds from the corner, and with trepidation, I grab the post of the bed and inch my way around, pausing when I see a lone figure on the floor, wheezing, bloody, and scratched to hell. Her dress is ripped, and one of her shoes is off, lying next to her head. The heel of her stiletto is covered in blood, and it’s obvious the guy that left like hell was nipping at his heels was the guy who did this.
I flip on the light and gasp when I recognize the woman. “Grace!” I squat and reach out for her, afraid to touch because she seems to be bleeding everywhere. “Oh my god, Grace, can you hear me?” I unbutton my blazer and shrug it off, then blanket it over her to cover her up. “Who did this? Grace, can you hear me?”
She shakes, turning her head slowly to me as if it is the most painful thing in the world for her to do. “Ash…Asher?” her teeth chatter, and a sob hunches her shoulders as she closes in on herself. “It hurts.”
“Who did this to you? Who was it? What was his name? I’m going to call 911, okay? Just stay awake. Please, stay awake,” I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear to comfort her, but the chunk of hair falls off along with a piece of scalp.
Shit, the guy bashed her head in. I hurry to pull out my phone from my pocket and dial 911. “Just stay awake, okay? Talk to me.”
“Asher, I can’t…I can’t breathe.”
“You can. You’re doing so good, Grace. Please, don’t die,” I start to get choked up because out of all the people in my life that are assholes, she’s the one person I consider a friend. Police sirens sound outside, but I haven’t even put the phone up to my ear yet.
How the hell are the police here already?
I lay my phone on the ground, then sit down next to her. I take the hand that doesn’t have crooked and broken fingers and gently hold it. I lean down as her chest rattles and whisper in her ear. “You have to be okay. You have to. You can’t leave me here. You live. You tell me who did this to you, and I’ll bring you justice. I swear.”
She doesn’t answer back. Her eyes are closed, and her chest isn’t moving. “Grace? Hey, Gracie, answer me.”
I wait for her to moan, to breathe, but nothing is happening. “No! No, no, no!” I push her onto her back, and I place my ear against her chest, listening for a heartbeat. I sit up, inhale a sharp breath, and my mind goes blank on what to do. Her heart isn’t beating. She isn’t breathing. My hands have blood on them. I’ve never seen so much blood.
I’m going to be sick.
I lay my hands on her chest and think about what I’ve seen in the movies. I don’t know what I’m doing. Fuck! I brush my forehead on the back of my arm and press her chest. “Please, breathe. Please.” Tilting her chin back, I part her lips and immediately taste blood while I breathe into her mouth. “Come on Grace, don’t let who did this to you win.”
She gasps but doesn’t open her eyes. A scared chuckle leaves my mouth as I tilt backward, collapsing on my ass. My hands are covered in blood, no doubt I have some on my face too, and my shirt is ruined.
The door bursts in, police officers and paramedics rush in, and people from the party linger.
“Oh, thank god, you’re here—”
They draw their guns and point. “Don’t move! Get on the ground. Lay down on the ground right now.”