My brother doesn’t agree with me, but from what I’ve seen, he doesn’t seem to be able to stay away from her either.
When she first left, the four of us moped around for about a year. We might have been young, but every single one of us was in love with her. Sure, we might not have realized it back then, but seeing her again was like a punch in the gut. I thought I’d gotten over the puppy love, but I obviously haven’t.
I can’t say the same for the others—they’re all so coveted these days—but I wouldn’t be surprised if they felt it too. There’s something about Octavia Royal that is completely undeniable.
I look down at my phone again and growl. “Fuck this.”
Grabbing my hoodie, I head out through the back of the house and through the hidden gate that joins the two properties. Stone Royal installed it when we were kids.
All of the lights are still off, which isn’t unusual, and I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.
I grab the spare key that Smithy left me for emergencies and let myself in.
The alarm isn’t on.
My heart rate spikes. There’s no way she wouldn’t have set it, right? She wouldn’t have been in this giant house alone without the alarm on.
“Octavia!” I yell out, not giving a fuck if she’s asleep. My blood feels like it’s on fire, and I’m frantic to figure out what the fuck is going on. I move through the house, yelling her name, before I hear a whimper coming from upstairs.
I swear to fucking Christ, if they got to her, I’ll burn down their world and bathe in their blood.
“Help me, please,” she yells, sounding so fucking broken as I run up the stairs and crash into her room. She’s not here, but there was clearly a struggle.
There’s a faint tapping down the hall, so I follow it, trying not to panic. It gets closer before disappearing again.
“Octavia!” I shout, hoping she calls out again.
“East…” her voice is scratchy as fuck, but I realize she’s in the cupboard at the top of the stairs. What the fuck happened here? She would never crawl in there on her own. She hates small spaces. I try to open the door, but it’s locked.
Fuck this shit.
“V, sweetheart,” I say as softly as I can while rage pulses through me. I know she needs a sense of calm right now, so that's what I’m going to be for her. “I need you to cover your face so you don’t get hurt when I get this door open, okay? Move as far away from the door as you can for me.”
She whimpers a soft, “Okay,” and anger floods me again.
I take a deep breath before punching a hole in the door to the left of the handle and ripping my way through it.
My heart breaks when I see her.
She’s curled up on the floor, her fingernails bleeding, looking completely broken. I lean down and slide my hands under her, lifting her and cradling her against my chest. “I got you, V.”
I murmur and coo comforts to her as I walk her down the hall to the bathroom. She needs to be cleaned up, but the way she grips my shirt makes me want to commit fucking murder.
I sit her on the counter in the bathroom and start the taps on the clawfoot tub, all while keeping contact with her. Once the taps are running, and I’ve poured in some bubble bath, I focus all of my attention on her. The way her hair’s ruffled and her tear-stained cheeks. Then there’s the fact that she won’t look up. Instead, she stares at the floor like she’s still afraid. The dried blood from where she tried to escape, or maybe even fight back, coats her skin. I clench my hands at my sides because getting angry won’t help her. I tuck a finger beneath her chin and lift her head so that she’s looking at me. My heart breaks for her, and I declare war in my mind on whoever did this to her. “What happened, V?”
My voice is gentle, trying to coax her to talk; but when she tries, there’s barely a noise. It’s as if she screamed herself silent, and I hate that I didn’t hear her screams and get to her sooner. I’m furious that I wasn’t here to protect her so she didn’t have to scream at all.
“It’s okay. You can tell me later. Let’s get you in the bath, yeah?” Her eyes go wide, and she shakes her head frantically. Her fingers dig into my forearms, like if she lets me go, I’ll leave her alone again. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’ve got you. We just need to clean you up a bit.”
I try to get her out of her clothes, but she’s shaking so badly, it’s almost impossible. She won’t let me go, so I quit trying to make her.
Fuck it.
I shut off the taps and kick off my shoes before lifting her into my arms. She’s still shaking, even when I hold her, and it pisses me off. I take a deep breath, shoving my rage down to deal with once I know she’s okay. After that, I’ll gladly lose my shit.
I step into the tub fully clothed with her against my chest and sit with her. I try to clean the blood from her arms, hands, and legs as much as I can, but it’s difficult since she’s still mostly dressed. “V, can you take off the hoodie so I can make sure there’s no more injuries?”
She nods, but it’s barely a movement as she curls up on my chest. I strip the hoodie from her and drop the sopping wet bundle on the floor. I don’t give a fuck about the mess, that’s a problem for later. I scour her with my eyes, but it doesn’t look like she has any other physical injuries. No, whoever did this knew it would hurt her in a much deeper way than that.