In which Lucas Sinclair's older sister spends her whole summer trying to tame Billy Hargrove.
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Contains Dark themes and sexual content that may not be suitable for people under the age of 18.
Read at your own risk-this essentially is...
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Chapter 30: Broken Doll
"My head," Zara whimpers weakly, a shaky hand raising to graze over the wound on her temple, warm blood oozed free at the touch, a sharp hiss sucking in deep through her chest as the pain shot through her skull. Her body felt like she'd just fallen off a cliff, limbs sore and vibrating from all her body had endured.
It took longer than she'd have liked to finally muster up the bravery to move again, muscles tense as she anticipated the pain. Her temple throbbed, eyesight blurry and when she turned her neck to the side she discovered that she'd probably gotten whiplash too. "Billy?" Zara calls but the words come out too soft—too broken to be heard. She swallowed thickly, her mouth so dry she regretted not keeping a bottle of water for herself when she'd left the party.
The party—all those drinks that had proven to bite her in the ass with a headache more killer than any hangover she'd ever experienced and blood was oozing from her head like a leaky faucet that wasn't shut off all the way.
The windshield was broken beyond repair, most of the damage was on the drivers side; some strange clear substance dripped from the cracks, thick drops hitting the dashboard with a rhythmic splat, splat, splat.
Zara's vision began to clear just enough for her to see past the few cracks on the passenger window and maybe if she weren't so disoriented she would've been more alarmed by what she saw.The sky was pitch black, blood red thunder clapping through the clouds. Dust particles drifted from above, coating the ground in a thin layer of ash grey. "What do you want?" Billy shouts from outside—he sounded so far away but the desperation in his voice carrying just enough for Zara to pick up on.
"Billy?" She called for him, fingers trembling from the blood loss when she tried to open the door. Her muscles screamed in protest with each movement, a sharp cry escaping when she moved her legs only to find a thin shard of glass a few inches long lodged in her thigh. It wasn't too deep but her adrenaline had long since wore off, her brain firing off neurons to the rest of the body, commanding her organs to work overtime—begging her to hold on just a little longer. That if she just got to Billy they could find a pay phone and call Steve.
He couldn't have been too far, especially not after having to drive close enough in this direction to drop off Robin. Steve would answer, he always did with his fancy phone his parents had insisted he get installed in the BMW when they'd returned from a trip for a whole two hours before they were changed, repacked and off again.
Zara took a bracing breath, demanding her mind drift off somewhere else—somewhere safe where it was warm and she was perfectly fine and smiling and teasing Billy about constantly catching him watching reality television when he thought no one else was around. She tried to focus on his face, the maturing line of his jaw and the scratchy hair that grew there when he didn't shave for a few days. The grabby hands he'd use to trap her back underneath the soft duvet covers with him, mumbling something about ten more minutes in a tone so gravelly it sent tingles down her spine. Zara would've done anything he asked with his nose scrunched up like that and his messy hair and heavy leg wrapping possessively over her so she didn't move, not for ten minutes—not for an hour.
