by H. M. Ward
I clutch the knife harder. “I swear to God, I’ll stab you. Stay the fuck away from me!” I yell at him, spitting his blood out onto the floor when it leaks into my mouth as I speak. A streak of his blood must be smeared across my face.
Edward laughs, like I’m a child and he can do whatever the hell he wants. “You really intend to cut me?”
“You really intend to rape me?”
His jaw drops. Edward manages to look insulted. He steps toward me and presses his hand to his chest. “Rape you? That’s what you think this is?”
“Yes, you crazy fucking bastard,” I growl, aiming the tip of the knife at his heart. I wonder if I should be aiming for his stomach, but I don’t move. My elbows lock. If he comes at me… Oh God.
He talks to me like I’m a child, too naïve to understand his intentions. “Anna, darling, put down the knife and we can talk about this. You obviously can’t tell, but I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You’re mine. I intend to keep things that way.” He steps toward me. Lifting his hand, he says, “Give it to me, now.”
I press my body backwards, but hit the cabinets. The draw pulls bite into my bare legs. I’m pretty sure my robe is hanging open, but can’t look. I don’t move. Edward’s eyes lock with mine. He moves towards me. He’s too close. I jab the knife at him when he’s within an inch of me.
Edward stops. He lifts his hands like he surrenders. “Anna, please. You know me. You know I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Then leave.” My arms are starting the shake, but my hands hold onto the knife like my life depends on it.
“I can’t do that,” he growls. “I can’t let you continue to act this way. Give me the knife or I’ll take it from you.”
“You’ll have to kill me first—”
Edward rolls his eyes, “You are so damn dramatic.” He lunges at me.
I don’t want to stab him. He’s my best friend’s brother. It makes my arms turn to jelly when he slams into me. I hear him scream, but I don’t know why. Edward grabs my wrist, but I don’t let go of the knife. The blade is streaked with crimson. I watch it as Edward slams my hand against the counter, forcing me to drop the blade. It clatters as I watch in horror. Then, Edward reaches to pick it up. My pulse is pounding in my ears. My mind is screaming at me to run, while every muscle in my body is corded tight and bursting with panic.
I press myself against the cabinets and slip past him as he twists to grab the knife. I’m almost out of the tiny kitchen, but Edward grabs me. Pulling me into his arms, he turns me to face the counter top and presses the knife to my neck. It’s already slick with blood. I suck in air and go still in his arms. If I move, he’ll slice my throat. I know he will. Tears roll down my cheeks and I can’t stop them.
Edward hisses at me as he slams my head down on the counter. The knife resumes the position, pressed to the side of my throat. I feel his hips press against my bottom and feel how much he wants me. I sob, and beg him to stop, but he doesn’t. I hear the zipper on his jeans slowly open.
I try to scream, but can’t. His weight on my back makes it so I can barely breathe. I babble incoherent pleas as my eyes blur with tears. He doesn’t answer me. Instead I feel my robe being torn away and my legs being forced apart. He presses himself against me, and stays like that for a moment. The feel of him against me makes me want to vomit. My mind flips on again, and I stop begging him to let me go. I sniffle as thoughts fly through my mind. I try to think of any plan to escape, but nothing is within reach. I can’t hit him. The way he has me pinned is going to make me pass out. I can barely breathe. Edward’s arm is crushing me facedown into the counter. His leg is between mine, holding them open and the knife is at the side of my throat.
Edward’s voice fills with triumph. I feel something warm and slick from him slip onto my side. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a trail of red drip from his waist and onto mine. I must have cut him with the knife before. The wound on Edward’s side is deep and a steady stream of blood flows from it, but not enough to stop him.
“This is for your own good, Anna.” He sounds like he’s enjoying this. I can almost see the smile on his face. He leans harder on my back and I feel the pressure increase, and all the air is forced out of my lungs.
I try to scream, but can’t. Tears overflow from my eyes and soak the counter. I open my mouth and try to yell, but it’s barely a whisper. I tense and close my eyes, not wanting to be here, wishing to God that this isn’t happening. I tune out his voice, not wanting to hear his words. He gloats that he’s won, that he knew he’d have me in the end. I’m aware of his hands on my body, touching me in ways he shouldn’t, as the world goes fuzzy at the edges. Blood pools under my face and gets in my eye. I don’t blink. I don’t writhe. He has me and there is nothing I can do. My heart feels like it has exploded. My body starts to go numb. His hand is on the back of my head holding me to the counter, while he leans harder on my back with his elbow. My arms dangle lifelessly at my sides. If he lets go, I’ll fall to the floor.
When he moves his hips, I want to cry, but can’t. No breath fills my lungs. I sag under him as he gets ready to push into me. Just as Edward’s about to rape me, the knife disappears. Then the arm that’s crushing my ribs is gone and my head falls to the side. I hear his voice—Cole—as I slip to the floor. I lay on my side and my eyes flutter open. One is caked with blood and won’t focus.
It is Cole. I blink slowly, trying to focus. Cole disarmed Edward and is beating him. Edward is on the floor in front of the refrigerator, covering his face with his hands. He doesn’t fight back. The knife is lodged in the wall next to the door way. Blood drips down the wallpaper in tiny red beads.
It takes me a moment to realize what’s happening. It feels like time is moving so slowly. Cole’s fist connects with Edwards ribs. Blood is everywhere—on Edward, on Cole, and on me. My robe is ripped any laying next to my feet. I want to reach for it. I want to cover myself, but it looks like Cole is going to kill Edward. Every time he punches him, Edward’s head slams back into the fridge. Blood is flowing from a head wound and from his side where I stabbed him.
I push myself up and feel like I’m going to hurl. Before I fall, I catch Cole’s arm as he’s about to swing another punch into Edward’s battered body.
“Stop,” I manage to choke out. The muscles in Cole’s arms bulge. I try to hold Cole back, but can’t. I start to fall, and lean into Cole.
When he sees me, the expression on his face is filled with fear. “Anna,” he breathes, pressing his hands to my face. He pulls me to him and kisses my face. “I thought—” his voice catches. “I saw you on the counter, and him on top of you. There was so much blood. I thought he…”
Tears steak my face. I can’t stand the look in his eyes. I lean against his chest as I speak. “He didn’t… I’m okay. He didn’t stab me.” I lean all my weight against Cole. After a moment, he supports me so I don’t fall over and pulls back to look at my side. Cole presses his fingers against my skin, wiping away the blood. “I’m not bleeding.”
Before Cole has a chance to respond, the door flies open. Two cops come in with their weapons drawn. The whole thing looks wrong. It appears that Cole is the one who attacked, not Edward. They move between us, pulling me away. They give me a blanket and I realize that I’m shivering, even though I don’t feel cold. They mutter something about shock and call for an ambulance.
They move through the apartment quickly and spot Edward laying on the floor in a puddle of blood. They sit me on the couch and one officer stays with me. He speaks to me, but I can’t focus. I pull the blanket tighter. I hear Edward’s voice and fear shoots through me in a cold burst.
“Miss,” the officer says again. Slowly, I turn my face and look up at him. I squint, trying to focus, “Do you know what happened?”
“Yes,” I rasp. Everything feels like it’s happening in slow motion. Every time I hear Edward’s voice from the other room, I crawl out of my skin.
The cop watches me squirm on the couch, pulling t
he blanket tighter to my throat. “Which one of them gave you that bruise on your cheek?”
I’m falling apart inside. I can’t hold myself together much longer. My voice shakes as I speak. “Edward. He hit me. He wouldn’t leave. He tried to…,” I choke on the words, but can’t manage to force them out. I stare unblinking at the kitchen wall. “Cole came and saved me.” I look at the cop. Tears start to flow again and leak out of the corners of my eye. My voice is barely a whisper as I start to shiver uncontrollably. “I need Cole.”
Cole has been standing across the room. One cop is watching both of us. They don’t want us talking to each other. Cole moves toward me, but the officer shakes his head. “I’m sorry. One more minute. The medics will be here and you can tell us what happened.”
I nod and sadness sticks to my insides like syrup. I feel like I can’t breathe. Cole steps toward me. He’s shaking, probably with rage, but he says nothing to me. Cole’s face is pinched. His arms are folded across his chest. Blood streaks his shirt with tiny beads splattered on his cheek. He looks older somehow. It’s his eyes. They reflect his fear and it’s all I can do to sit still without shivering. Guilt slams into me. I did this. I made this happen. Edward did this because I led him on. I had to do something, didn’t I? My eyes sting. I blink and look at my hands as I twist them together.
The paramedics arrive and swamp me and Edward. They poke me, ask me things that I know—like my name, when I was born, and that kind of thing. Then they ask what happened. I glance across the room, but Cole has been separated from me. He stands with the officers who arrived earlier with his back turned toward me. Cole’s speaking, but his eyes keep cutting across the room to me when he looks over his shoulder. Edward’s blood is on Cole’s shirt. They probably think Cole stabbed Edward.
“It was me,” I croak, trying to speak loudly, but I find that I can’t. The officers look at me and nod. Their eyes say they’ve seen this before. One smiles sadly at me and says that everything will be taken care of, to let the medics do their work.
Cole speaks to me, his voice filled with something that breaks my heart. “It’s all right, Anna. Let them look at you.”
The paramedic next to me wants me to open my mouth. They check my throat and offer a rape kit, but I wasn’t raped. Edward didn’t get that far. I want them gone, but no one leaves. They ask me what happened. I tell them.
My story stays the same, but the guilt is killing me. “I must have done something,” I say to one of the medics. “But I don’t know what.”
The guy is well over six foot and looks like he could carry a walrus up a flight of stairs. Anger flashes in his eyes. His voice is firm, but gentle. “There is nothing, and I mean nothing, that you could have done to make this happen.” I nod, but I don’t know what I think. Cole is hurt. Edward is hurt. I’m hurt. I stabbed Emma’s brother. I’m going to lose my best friend.
My head feels hot and then cold. I shiver and the world goes fuzzy. Heat travels up my body in a wave and the world goes black.
CHAPTER 6
The first thing I notice is the hard bed under my back. My fingers bunch the waffle-weave blanket in my hands. I recognize the texture. Between that and the scent of disinfectants, I know where I am. I peel my eyes open and look around the hospital room. I hate hospitals. I blink slowly and the world comes into focus.
Cole is sitting next to my bed, his arm dangling over the rail, stroking my cheek. “Hey,” he says, and offers a weak smile. His hand feels so warm. I shiver and want to pull him into the bed with me. I want his arms around me. I want to feel safe, but I’m too weak to move.
“Hey,” I say back, confused. I don’t know what happened. I don’t remember getting here.
Cole sees the questions in my eyes and says, “You went through a lot. They wanted to check to make sure nothing was broken, and then you passed out. Nothing’s broken, but you do have a sprained ankle.” He watches me, his eyes holding mine. I see the remorse in his eyes. He wants to say, I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.
But he did. We both feel guilt that we shouldn’t feel. I wish I could take that away from him. He saved me. I press Cole’s palm to my cheek and lean into his hand. “If you didn’t come…” I take a deep breath, “How’d you know?”
“You were late and didn’t answer your phone. Emma texted and said you were grabbing suit, and that she had to leave you. Then, when you didn’t show, I thought something was wrong. I raced over there and found him—” Cole’s jaw tenses, and he stops speaking. He works his jaw for a moment and finally says, “When I saw you, you weren’t moving. You were hanging there, limp. There was blood everywhere. My God, Anna, I thought he killed you.” Cole’s voice tightens as he speaks. It’s barely audible by the time he’s done. He rubs his hand across my cheek and takes a breath to steady himself. His gaze locks with mine. “I love you, Anna. I thought I lost you.”
“You didn’t,” I say, my voice still raspy. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, dude.” I grin at him, but my face hurts.
“Stop cracking jokes, Lamore. You’ve got a couple of stitches in your cheek. You’re not supposed to aggravate it.”
I nod. “So, I have to ask how you kept my parents away.”
“There’s no force on earth that could do that. They were here fretting and pacing each other into a hysterical mess. I sent them to the cafeteria to get coffee. They’ll be back in a minute.”
I lean back into the flat plastic pillow and smile at him. It’s a doped-up dreamy kind of smile. “I love you, Cole.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but there’s a knock at the door. The doctor comes in. He speaks to me and explains a few things and is gone again.
Before he leaves the room, I ask, “Can I go home?” I don’t want to stay here a second longer than I need to.
The doctor looks back at me and nods. “As long as you have some help, yes. Stay off your feet for a few days until the ankle mends. No strenuous activities.” His eyes cut to Cole when he says it, which makes me blush like my face caught fire. The doctor smiles and says to Cole, “Take care of her.”
“I will,” Cole replies. His blue eyes drift to me and he says, “I’ll always take care of you.”
_____
Things feel different after the attack. I stay at Cole’s. He pushes back the court date a week, until I recover. I look like hell. My face has been beaten and is all shades of awesome. My entire body is sore, aching in places I didn’t even know I had. Cole keeps giving me ice packs and heating pads. I can’t believe he talked my parents into staying at his place, but he did.
I’m laying on his couch, with a pillow under my head, when Emma comes over. She hands Cole a huge bouquet of mums for me. They’re so big that I can’t see her when she walks through the door. When Cole takes the flowers from her, Em sees me for the first time and gasps. Her fingers press to her lips as she mashes them into a thin line.
“You’re not supposed to tell people they look like hell, Em.” I want to smile, but I can’t. I pull up the blanket and twirl the fringes under my fingers. I’m worried she’ll hate me. Cole assured me that she wouldn’t, but I’m still worried. I can’t undo any of this. I wish it never happened. Before I can say another word, Emma grabs my hands and starts talking.
“I’m so sorry, Anna. I didn’t know. I swear to God that I didn’t—” Emma can’t stop apologizing. Grief lines her face. Cole perches behind her on a stool. He flips through a magazine like he isn’t listening, but I know that he is.
I cut her off, “There was no way for you to know. I didn’t know. Nobody did.”
“I should have known. He’s my goddamn twin,” she rubs her eyes with the heel of her hand. Emma’s beautiful face is pinched, lining her forehead with wrinkles. “I should have known.”
I know how she feels. I feel the same way. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before, why I kept dismissing the warning signs. They were there, clear as glass, and I ignored them. We both ignored t
hem.
Cole turns the page of his magazine, and doesn’t look up. “His mistakes are his alone. You didn’t do this to her, Emma. Edward did.” Emma turns to him, her mouth hanging open.
“But—”
Cole shakes his head, “But nothing. You had nothing to do with this. From the moment I met you, you’ve been nothing but a great friend to Anna.”
“I told her you were creepy.”
“Good,” he says. “You were looking out for her. You sure as hell wouldn’t have done this to her. Blame the person who actually did it. He’s not the guy you thought he was. Blood is strange like that. You’d think the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, but some apples do. They roll so far away that they they’re nothing like the rest of their family.” Cole’s tone is firm. He’s speaking about himself as much as Edward. I feel the pain in his voice. I want to throw my arms around him. I hate hearing him speak about his father, but Emma needs to hear this, so he says it. “Blood or not—twin or not—he’s not you.”
Emma’s eyes fill with tears. It’s what she needs to hear. She looks back at me and says, “You’re my best friend. You always have been…”
“I always will be.”
Emma and I share a snot-filled cry. Cole left the room at some point after we use an entire box of tissues. Emma dabs her dark eyes. “I’m not sure if my timing is crap or not, so I’m just going to tell you.” She takes a breath and pushes her dark hair over her shoulder. “I met someone.”