20 - Blake |PART ONE|

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My hands clutch the steering wheel as I leave the safe house after Cassie's call. My fucking heart threatens to beat out of my chest with every beat as I hurtle at breakneck speed towards the hospital.

I pull into the goddamn hospital parking lot without a care in the world. I rush inside, anxiety gnawing at my gut. I spot Cassie, Clyde, and another guy I don't know, but I don't linger over him because my mind is so preoccupied.

"Where is she?" I ask Cassie abruptly, wasting no time.

She stands up, followed by the other guy, who gives me a wary look.

"And who are you?" he asks in a hostile tone.

I ignore him completely, my concentration entirely focused on my fucking concern for her.

"Is it because of you that she's here?" he continues, trying to blame me.

A fucking feeling of guilt suddenly invades me, like a punch in the gut.

"She's in room two hundred and nine," replies Cassie.

Without further ado, I launch myself headlong into the hospital corridors. I'm going like hell, jostling people as I go, not bothering to apologize in the slightest. My mind is racing, filled with fucking urgency and worry. The only thing that matters is getting to that damn room and seeing her, making sure she's alive. Nothing else matters at this point.

I storm into the room, frantically scanning every nook and cranny. My gaze finally lands on the goddamn bathroom, where I discover her staring at her bruised body. My own body freezes, gripped by a growing anger mixed with disappointment.

"I'm sorry," I whisper in an almost broken voice.

Fucking tears threaten to well up, realizing that all this, all this hell, is my fault. Her eyes are filled with tears, betraying all the suffering she's enduring. She gently touches a few of those bruises, and I see the pain reverberate across her face as she closes her eyes. It must bring back painful fucking memories with her damn ex, and all this, all this shit, is my fault.

I shouldn't have let my guard down. I shouldn't have put her in danger by going near her. The consequences are too heavy, too destructive.

"It's all because of me." I turn away from her and start pacing up and down the room.

"What do you care about me? Do you? Wasn't it nothing earlier?" she says, bursting into the room.

A nervous laugh escapes my lips. "Do we really have to talk about this morning? Have you seen the state you're in?"

"You seemed to regret earlier."

I'm hallucinating. She's just been beaten up and all she can think about is me?

"Joséphine..."

How can I tell her I'm grateful Clyde came home to her fucking apartment, or I'd have fucked her on her fucking table, and maybe she'd have regretted it, or I'd have put her in more danger?

"I'm sorry, I can't... it won't work," I stammer in a fucking effort to soften the situation, but from the look on his face, I'm only making it worse.

"You should have thought about it before," she spits angrily.

The moment I see the first tears welling up in her eyes, a strange feeling takes hold of my goddamn heart.

I'm already regretting my words.

"I swear to you, Joséphine... I'm not a good person," I whisper in a voice filled with sadness and self-loathing.

"You made a fool of me. You used my presence to hide from your father, I confessed things to you, and you do this to me?"

Our fallen souls [EN] (High Enough) : VOLUME 1Where stories live. Discover now