Page 132 of Against The Tide

The lump that’s been in my throat since this afternoon sinks to the pit of my stomach as I nod and head inside only for him to stop me again.

“I got it,” I tell him with the easiest smile I can muster. “I’ll be out in a couple minutes.”

Gesturing with a tip of his head for me to go, I don’t miss the way he stands back staring straight at the door. It’s almost like he can see through it or something because I keep looking back, trying to get to grips with the weird feeling that’s followed me all day since I spotted the agents following me.

I watch the water run for a moment. With my heart beating fast and my aching body protesting as much, I hold my hands only just away from the tepid stream. It’s not warm nor cold, something in between that barely does anything to wash away the caked blood dried into the lines of my hands.

So much blood. That’s all I can think as the pink-tinged water darkens when I start scrubbing and working the soap into my hands. The gummy scent of it does nothing to disguise the smell of blood that strengthens the more I scratch and scrub at my tender skin. Hot tears roll down my face as the water whirls around the bowl before it drains away.

When I finally look in the mirror, I gasp at the sight of my matted hair and the spattered blood on my neck. The longer I study my appearance and scrub at my hands, the harder it is to breathe. I’m right back to this afternoon, trying my best to hold Rhett up while gravity pulled us both down.

Cough after bloody cough, all I can do is watch as he chokes, and I have no idea what to do. All I can do is hold on. Hold on and tell him it’s okay even though I don’t think it is.

“Help is coming,” I shush him, trying to conserve his energy so that he can keep fighting. “It’s coming, honey. It’s coming…” I chant and keep chanting as I hold him tighter and think of every prayer I’ve ever heard or been taught even as blood collects in his mouth.

Light golden skin pales. Green eyes darken. White teeth stain pink. Every gurgled gasp dribbles a fresh stream of blood over chattering, purpling lips. It’s the one lonely tear that shatters my hope. Running from the outside corner of his eye down to his temple, it disappears into dark golden hair, and I can’t bring myself to wipe it away. All I can do is hold him to my chest as I rock back and forth.

Bile fills my mouth as my stomach twists and twists at the memory. The only thing I’ve felt since the moment he took that bullet for me is loss, the kind I’ve never felt before, and as I stagger into the cubicle behind me, I can barely hold myself up as I retch into the toilet and try to wipe all the blood from my skin.

It doesn’t matter how many times I repeat the words the doctor said earlier. It doesn’t matter that Iris is safe. Nothing matters because I am drowning in feelings that I’ve never felt before. Grief, loss, and hate. So much hate that the need to scream overwhelms me. I wish I could rip myself open and tear it all from my veins. But instead, it pulls from me in wicked retches and deafening sobs.

The bathroom door clatters open with an echoing punch that reverberates through me. My throat closes up as I peer out back at the mirror. My pounding heart hangs itself somewhere between my knees and the floor. It doesn’t matter how fast I act, he was already anticipating me.

“Come on now, doll,” Mike grunts as I try to shut the cubicle door, and he rams into it, sending me stumbling back. “Don’t make this hard,” he sighs, shaking his head as though he’s hurting himself with his actions. “I didn’t want it to come to this, Avery.”

Do something! I yell at myself, shaking off the shock and my ridiculous stupor.

Mike is coming closer, and while my natural instinct tells me to cower away, I stand my ground.

“It was always going to come to this,” I spit as he pulls out a small gun, and the only thing I can think to do is slam the door right into his face.

It all happens so quickly that the jarring sound of the shot ricocheting off the walls winds me for a brief moment as the door bounces back on its hinges. Without a second thought, I run as fast as I can past him. If I can get out of here…

Almost. My fingertips graze the long door handle as he pulls me back by my elbow brusquely. While I stagger back, slipping on the water I dropped on the floor earlier from my hands, Mike grabs me by my hair, tugging it so that I’m looking straight up at him.

Fear evades me in that one moment where his dark eyes narrow to slits on mine.

“I tried to warn Robert to stop, but he couldn’t help himself. Like father, like daughter. Your husband was right about one thing after all.”

“Did you kill him too?”

“I did you a favor, doll,” he sneers in my face, and while he’s too busy gloating, I close my hand around the barrel of his gun gently enough that while it’s pressed to my stomach, on its side, he doesn’t realize what I’m doing. “I told Carl he was an idiot for choosing a whore over you, and he laughed. I tried, Avery, I tried to make him see that you were the best choice.”

If we weren’t in such a precarious position, I would laugh myself. Maybe I was the best choice, but I’m grateful that I wasn’t the one Carl made.

“I even got the judge to push back the hearing. All that idiot had to do was bring you back home.”

“This is my home, Uncle Mike.” I try to breathe as steadily as I can to buy myself some time and purchase on his weapon.

“I suppose we all make bad choices. Want to know what mine were?” he asks, blowing a long breath over my face. “I didn’t take care of your father soon enough. It would’ve saved us from all of this. Now my hands are all dirty. Look what he made me do, Avery!” Another hard tug of my hair has me looking up at him again. “Look!”

“You did it all yourself,” I spit back at him, pulling at the firearm in his hand as hard as I can, refusing to let go when he releases my hair and pulls at it too.

We’re in a tug-of-war when the loud shot rings around us, making me jump back as shards of porcelain from one of the basins fly everywhere and water pours onto the floor.

“He should’ve let it go! But he just had to be the hero all the fucking time. It was always the Robert show. Nobody else mattered, only what he wanted.”

“So, you poisoned him. You had him killed like a criminal.” Turning, I step over the shards on the floor. If I can get close enough to the exit, maybe I can find a way of getting away.