He fell to the ground and groaned, clutching the wound on his head that bled, and another memory came back to the surface. It was fuzzy, but my hand touched the smooth scar on the back of my head, still a bit sensitive, and when I brought my hand in front of my face, flashes of blood flipped on and off on my hand like a light switch.
I dropped the piece of lumber and ran out the door, away from the man that wanted to hurt me. Logan called for me, and the part of my soul that trusted him yearned for me to go back, told me to go back, but the fear won. I kept putting one foot in front of the other as fast as I could. I jumped off the porch and landed on the cold grass in the front yard. My toes dug into the dirt, and now my clean body was filthy again.
“Abigail!” Logan called out for me, but I had to get away.
I had to be safe. They were coming for me. If I didn’t run, I would die. I jumped down from the yard to the road, and I winced from the discomfort the pavement brought. Small rocks jabbed into the pads of my feet, but pain or not, I had to keep going, I had to keep running, the further I got, the safer I became.
My lungs burned from the exertion. Sweat beaded on my forehead and dripped down into my eyes. It stung. Something ran down my cheek, either tears or sweat, I didn’t know anymore. I had to get away from my worst nightmare.
I ran until I came upon my favorite spot. It was a small bridge by the water. I ducked my head, so I didn’t hit it on the concrete and then sat down, tucking my legs to my chest. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I laid my head down and wept.
Life wasn’t supposed to be this hard.
Chapter Five
Logan
I somehow managed to pick up my phone and dialed the last person I spoke with. I wasn’t about to call an ambulance, but I felt like I needed someone here. I flopped onto my back, tossing my arm over my eyes and moaned from how heavy my head felt. There was blood, but not a lot. My cheek hurt worse than anything. My pulse thrived underneath the swollen skin, and I wondered if the bone was broke.
She packed a wallop in that skinny body. I didn’t even see the blow coming. I thought she was threatening me, protecting herself, I never thought she’d actually hit me.
“Jesus. What the fuck happened to you?” Haden, Godrick’s best friend, and business partner asked as he stood inside the bedroom doorway. “I brought the ice like you wanted.” The floors creaked under his weight and it had me removing my arm from my face to see if he was about to break it. “Holy fuck, who did this to you? Do we need to call the cops?”
“No. Help me up, would you?” I held out my hand, and Haden propped me up against the wall, lightly pressing the ice pack against my cheek. I hissed, but then the cold seeped into the pain I sighed.
“You might need to go to the doctor. You have a cut on your head too.” I noticed him look around, and he stared at the bag on the floor. “I’ve seen that bag. Where did you get that? And what happened?”
I sighed, closed my eyes, and remembered her face. Abigail was so sacred, and when she hit me upside the head, a part of her wasn’t there anymore, not the part I slowly got to know. The moment she saw my knife, everything changed.
Never in my life had I ever connected with someone the way I connected with her. It was obvious she hated to speak, but I didn’t understand why. Her voice was low and soft, unused, and raspy. It had a smokey sound, like an old blues singer, and I loved it. She never had to talk again if she didn’t want to. Something told me, I’d be able to know what she thought, what she wanted, needed, without her ever saying another word again.
“Hey, you okay?” Haden snapped his fingers in front of me. “I need to know what’s going on.”
“Yeah, sorry. My head is killing me.”
“No, shit. Being hit in the head by a piece of wood would do that to you.” He sat down next to me and reached for the backpack.
That protectiveness swelled up again, and I snatched it out of his hand. “That doesn’t belong to you.”
He lifted a brow at me. “It doesn’t belong to you either. I’ve seen that bag. I gave a girl a muffin and water with twenty bucks this morning, and she had that bag.”
“You saw her?” I rubbed my thumb over her name, missing her. It sounded insane. I just met her, and I knew nothing about her, but my soul tasted what it was like to feel whole for the first time, and I wanted more of that feeling.
“Yeah, she was on the street with a sign that said she only needed ten bucks. I gave her my card to see if I could help her some more, but I never heard from her.”
Jealousy was a mean bastard, and it had no part here, not when my friend did something kind, but that irrational side of me wanted to choke Haden. The only person Abigail needed was me. I pushed it aside though, not having the energy to fight about it. “I got a call from one of the members of my crew saying they thought a squatter was staying here, so I came to check it out. I came ready to give the person food, water, and take them to a hotel, but then I saw her and at first everything was fine. We talked a bit, well, I talked, she listened, but it was fine.”
“So what happened?” he asked.
“She saw the knife on my hip, and she changed. I don’t think she even knew where she was at. She saw me as the enemy. I’m not even mad at her. She did
what she thought she had to.”
“I’d be a little mad. Half your face is purple.”
I snorted, wincing when my smile only brought more pain. “Yeah, the pain sucks, I won’t lie about that.”
“She’s young. What do you think happened?”