Crimson Lace

Chapter 20

WARNING: this chapter contains subjects that may be triggering for some individuals. Such subjects include but are not limited to: addiction, violence, and PTSD

WESLEY
CHAPTER TWENTY

The news that halfbreeds exist has spread like a wildfire across the world. The cities are buzzing with gossip and everyone has their own opinion on what the king should do with this new discovery. People have been traveling across the globe in hopes of catching a glimpse at the creature that is Eleya Nevah Woodruff. She is being put on display at various press conferences and events, like some sort of caged animal at a petting zoo.

The last I heard was that Keaton was keeping her stationed in the palace lab, where they have been testing her for the purpose of "science." They haven't learned anything so far, or at least they haven't shared anything with the public.

I stare at the white newspaper in my hand. Her face has been plastered on every cover page of every story for the past week. They use the same image every time. In the picture she is wearing a white hospital gown, sitting on a chair that looks like something out of a dentist office, and she is smiling. Smiling. I find it hard to believe that Elle would be smiling through all of this. Besides, I know my best friend well, and that is not her smile. She looks so lost and dead inside. Anyone else might not notice the glint of fear that fills her eyes or the flash of panic written on her face. She is not okay, I know that whatever they are doing to her must be torture. This photo was taken a week ago when they found out about her genes. I can only imagine what she must look like now. The thought makes me nauseous.

I run my hand over the paper, tracing her figure with my finger, before tearing the article in half. The sound is completely satisfying. I toss it in the trash, before kicking the wall. The drywall material crumbles with the kick, leaving a boot shaped hole. The action sends a shooting pain through my toes that only angers me further.

"Fuck!" I bite my tongue.

Someone places their hand on my bicep. The soldier in me screams danger and demands an attack. I whip around and lunge before I realize who I am going after. Teeth bared like a rabid dog ready to bite. My hands are clasping her neck as I slam her into the wall.

She gasps.

"That's hot and all, Wes," she chokes out, "but I can't breathe."

My heartbeat slows and my muscles relax as I realize who it is. I release her immediately, practically throwing myself against the wall in the process. How could I lay my hands on her? Ash who I thought was dead. Ash who has been there for me ever since I joined the Crimson Reapers. Ash who I grew up with. I stare at my hands, shaking.

I can feel her stare, but I can't bring myself to look up as I speak. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know what I was doing. I-I just snapped."

"Drama queen." She grumbles, massaging her neck where my hands were just moments ago.
"It's fine, Wes. I'm okay."

"No. No. No, it's not fine. I could have killed you." Both my hands grip my hair, pulling slightly as I pace the floor. My breath quickens with my heartbeat, until I am seeing dark spots.

"Dammit, Wesley. Look at me."

I do as I'm told, lifting my gaze to meet her eyes. Those ocean blue eyes. My panic instantly fades away, and my bones seem to melt. There is something about her that calms me.

"I told you, I am fine." She steps closer, until we are no more than a foot apart.

I swallow hard, forgetting myself for a moment. Suddenly her presence is all that matters. Her hair is neatly braided into two pigtails today, the look suits her well. I reach forward, tugging gently on one of the braids.