Hero

38 Cataline

My skin is sucked around my bones like shrink-wrap. I’m dry, like I’ve cried and bled everything from myself. I can’t escape the overpowering smell of blood, the metal-in-my-mouth taste, the thickness of it smeared over my hands and in my hair. Every choice that mattered was taken away from me. Only one was ever truly mine.

My decision ensures I’ll never see Calvin again, and the pain is so acute that I think I’m dying all over again. None of it was fair, least of all that I should be the one left with a broken heart.

“Calvin.”

“Cataline.”

I raise my chin toward the voice. He’s here. Calvin is with me, and wherever I’m going, I hope he’s coming. He speaks again, and I know if Hell is the final destination for what I’ve done, I’m not there yet.

“I know you’re awake. I can see you smiling.”

I frown. There’s black now, whereas before I saw nothing. Light is trying to get in, but I reject it. I’m supposed to be dead, but I’m only lying down. My skin is so tight, it suffocates.

“Open your eyes.”

And just like that, I do. Calvin is there, standing over me, looking terrible but still handsome. Scruff covers his normally smooth jawline, but all I can think is I could wrap myself up in him and live and be happy in his beauty. “Calvin?”

He nods.

“Am I dead?”

He shakes his head.

“No?” I choke out. My cheeks tickle, and I want to scrape at them, but my hands are heavy. “I don’t even have that choice?”

He runs his hand over his forehead and through his disheveled hair. “Fuck, Cataline. I know you don’t mean that.”

I nod that I do.

He lowers himself onto the edge of the bed. “Norman gave you something for the pain, so you might feel a little out of it.”

“What’s broken?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know how I survived that fall, but I must’ve broken some bones.”

“The medication’s for your arms.”

My bandaged wrists. I can feel the stretch of the wounds underneath, trying to reopen and swallow me whole.

“You didn’t fall,” he informs me slowly. “I caught you. You won’t remember. You were out of your mind.”

“No. That’s impossible. You were across the room.”

“I’m fast. I’m Hero.”

I shake my head as I struggle to sit up against the headboard of Calvin’s bed. “You can’t be. Hero is good. He’s a protector. He doesn’t hurt or kidnap or rape. You can’t be Hero. You’re the enemy.”

His face is passive. “I know. But it’s the truth.”

Everything is wrong. I hold my scratchy, bandaged wrist under my eyes to stem the tears. This can’t be happening. There were nights I prayed for Hero to rescue me. I sat by the window, waiting, hoping, silently screaming for him. But I’ve been living under his control all along. I bury my face deeper in my hands and weep as Calvin watches, motionless and rigid. “You bastard,” I say.

When the crying finally subsides, I wipe my nose and look up at him. There’s still nothing in his expression. I’m that way now too. I transfer the wetness from my cheeks to my forearm and take a deep breath. “Tell me everything.”