Damsel[ed]: Rescue Required (#3 of the Damsel[ed] Series)

Chapter Seven: Heart to Heart

Heaven.

"Hey, Hev." Angelos' low voice is the first sound I registers when I curl up in the back of Gats' BMW, and with it, the vague comfort of Angel's size and strength. "It's okay. Can you hear me? Tell me what happened. Or don't. Whatever makes you feel best."

Gasping. That's the second sound. It rings out all around me, as desperate and frantic as I am. My lungs tight, as if the air's been choked out of them. The grief, a cloying, oily thing wriggling in my gut. What have I done? How could I have slipped? Why couldn't I save him?

Blackness slated before my eyes. I squeeze my eyelids shut to stop tears from rolling down my face. I won't become hysterical, I decide. I'll stay strong. Tough. If I hadn't lapsed before, then this wouldn't have happened. It's a mistake I won't make again.

"Good back there?" Jaylin asks.

I grind my jaw. Nod. Flicking my eyes open, I swivel my head toward the opposite window. That way, I can focus on my reflection to stave away the panic.

Starlight traces the curve of my chest so my dark, slumped form glows against the nightlight of the city. I've hurt so many people. How am I supposed to live with this? I keep asking myself questions, but the answers seem so faraway and my head throbs at the thought of them.

His eyes shine with something raw and a turbo-shot of it. I can't read them anymore and it sends a punch through my gut.

"I'm fine," I say. "What are we going to do?"

He traces a strand of hair out of his face, squared jaw going slack. "What happened with Poison. Did he hurt you?"

I run my thumb over my bottom lip, wishing I could scrape away the memory of Poison biting it as easily as I scrape away the layer of scab he left. "No. He found me and I just... gave in." There. Gave in. The words, raw and cutting as I think back to the day I dropped a fistful of poppies onto Nebula's monument.

"What do you mean, 'gave in?'" snaps Jaylin, throwing the car into Drive. But I'm already back in that chill September day, grinding my heels into the asphalt, drawing in a puff of smoke-white air. Promising I would become an inspiration to girls like me, promising to hold up Nebula's legacy and make her proud.

"Heaven, are you alright?" asks Angelos, his hand reaching over the glove compartment to touch mine. When he does, bars of moonlight pass over his skin and outline the purple mottle of bruises etched across his wrists. The sight makes me sick.

"I was supposed to be a role model for other girls," I mutter into my shoulder, cracking at the sound of his voice. I've missed him so much, and now that's safe with me, I let my fears bleed into his. "That we can be heroes. That we're so much stronger than we're given credit for. But look at me. Gats had to save me, Jay had to save me, I... I couldn't save you. And Poison? I let him break me. I let a boy..." Distract me. Pull me under his control. Manipulate me.

If all those girls I'm supposed to inspire saw what I'd done, they'd be appalled, ashamed. And the worst part?

I still want Poison.

I blink back tears, cupping my face in my hands so Angel won't see them.

Jaylin whistles. "You do have a pretty crap track record, don't you?"

"I'm a terrible role model," I say into my tear-drenched fingers, "and a terrible hero."

A click and a whoosh and Angel's seatbelt snaps back into place over his head. Before I can brace myself, he hops over the glove compartment and slides beside me. "Hey," he says, a frown darkening his supermodel face.