no turning back

• twenty four •

elijah

The driver eyed me skeptically as I dropped the girl into a seat in the back row of the bus. I pulled the hoodie over her face before snapping a picture of her.

Gladys would never believe me unless I provided evidence—not after all the shit she'd seen and been through because of me. If anyone else was questioning me, I could care less, but this was my angel.

I had a lot to prove if I was going to get her heart back. And she would love me again. She was the only one who could.

Sighing, I slipped the driver another hundred and stepped off the Greyhound. I leaned against my car and waited. Other passengers heading to Denver boarded and then the long, silver bus rolled out of the station.

I rubbed a hand down my face, feeling my fatigue. I needed sleep but there was no time for rest; I had to get back and make sure Brant cleaned up the mess before Gladys saw.

After shrugging out of my black jacket and tossing my baseball cap into the backseat, I stopped at a gas station to fill up and grab an energy drink. Then I was back on the desolate backcountry highways en route to the farmhouse.

An hour later, I parked behind the house and got out. My gaze was drawn instantly to the glowing window of the master bathroom. I frowned. Gladys should've been sleeping.

Fuck, I hope she didn't see anything.

The second I stepped inside, my guard went up. Running water sounded from the bathroom upstairs. I took the stairs two at a time and stopped short at the top. Brant sat on the floor outside the door, his face soaked with tears.

I assumed he was drunk and, given where he was sitting, that he'd tried to do something to Gladys. Growling, I grabbed him by the collar and jerked him to his feet. He cowered behind his arms.

"Please, wait!" he yelped. "She locked herself inside and won't come out."

"What did you do?" I snarled, slamming him against the wall.

"Nothing! She came down and saw me covered in blood . . . I had to tell her the truth." He sobbed. "I had to."

"What truth?"

"That I-I killed her cousin."

I threw him aside and tested the doorknob, finding it locked. I rammed my shoulder into the door several times until it gave way. Stumbling into the room, my boots clapped against a thin layer of water along the floor.

Panic tore through me. I chased the flow of water to the bathroom door and broke it down too.

My entire body froze at the sight before me. The clawfoot tub was brimming with water. Gladys was submerged below the clear surfaces, her gold hair floating around her.

I flew to the tub and reached into the water. She flung herself upright just as my fingers found purchase on her soaked shirt. The adrenaline was pumping so hard through me that I yanked her clear out of the water.

She fell against me and I crumpled to the floor, holding her in my lap as she coughed and sputtered for air. My hands rubbed at her face.

Her skin was so pale and her lips were bluish. She couldn't hold her eyes open for longer than half a second at a time, and they never focused on me.

"Angel!" I said. "Look at me! Breathe. Breathe. You're okay."

A shiver ran through her and her head lolled against my shoulder. Brant sloshed into the bathroom then and took in the scene with a horrified look.