Chapter Twenty-Six - Confessions of the Brokenhearted

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                                                                 Chapter Twenty-Six

                                                   Confessions of the Brokenhearted

Cindy didn’t wake up for three days. Originally I had thought something was wrong. Did she lose too much blood? Did it damage her brain? Was she dead? Carol had to calm me down multiple times when I snapped about Cindy dying. My stress level skyrocketed as every waking moment I spent next to her, thinking of what I’ve done to save her. Do I regret it? No, I don’t. I’d agree to the terms again, if asked. But I couldn’t help but think of what it was going to cost me.

Carol forced me to shower after sitting in the same place for two days covered in mud and dried blood. I basically had to be pried from Cindy’s side and thrown into the shower. No one was aware of the deal between Matthew and me. No one knew I technically was his fiancé, a title which my blood runs cold each time I think of it.

Matthew wasn’t due to come back for another night or so, though he did manage to get Buddy sent to me all healthy and happy. He has called me twice after leaving to ask questions about Cedric as well as to strangely ask how I was doing, for which I responded with “I’m fine” because that’s all I could say. How was I doing? I think fine doesn’t cover it. The stress of everything was taking a toll on my, resulting in one of the maids standing beside me to ensure I was actually eating. I kept replaying everything over and over again, trying to think of things I could have changed in order to be in a different situation. I should have killed Cedric first. No, I should have checked the building out and killed his men first. No, I should have parked my truck somewhere else. No, I should have had Cindy meet me somewhere afterwards. So many ways I could have changed this current moment, yet nothing I could do.

Cindy woke up in the middle of the day, coughing from a dry mouth. I immediately handed her a glass of water and insisted she take small sips.

“How’re you feeling?” I eagerly asked.

She wiped her lips with the back of her hand and handed me the empty glass. “…Where are we? What happened?”

I leaned back in my chair and tried to think of some sort of lie to tell her. We’re in the hospital? We’re in Arizona? We’re in a safe house? But then I realized it didn’t actually matter if I lied. It’s not like she’ll remember it next week. It’s not like she’ll remember me next week. “We’re at a friend of mine’s house.” Alright, I couldn’t exactly tell her everything. If I said “vampire” she’d totally call me a looney as she had many years ago when I told her about our neighbor being killed by one.

She looked around us from the dark hardwood flooring to the clearly expensive paintings and golden wallpaper. “Friend? Who?”

“His name is Matthew. He’s kind of my old boss.”

Her brow raised just a little. “Your boss? He’s letting us stay here?”

I nodded.

“…Are you sleeping with him or something? Because no one in their right mind would let two injured people on the run stay in their house.”

Ouch. That hit too close to the truth. It’d have been my response as well, if I were in her place. “Something like that,” I responded, not bothering to lie about anything.

She wasn’t fazed by my response. Why would she be? “Where do we go from here? Do we hide?”

“No.” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at a painting of a grassy hill across the room. “Cedric won’t be after us anymore. It’s been taken care of.”

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