Bury Me (The Ashes Boys Book 2) by K.L. Taylor-Lane

Author:K.L. Taylor-Lane [Taylor-Lane, K.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: K. L. TAYLOR-LANE
Published: 2024-04-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

EMBER

Blood seeps between my fingers, oozing too quickly from the harshly sliced laceration. Jagged and uneven slashes into both of my inner thighs, but my right one is worse, I started with it first. Emotion causing me to carve too deep. Stabbing the sharp scissors into my leg before butchering the blades through. I’ve done it before, but not like this.

My left thigh is bleeding too. A steady flow that beads, gathering along the length of the cut until it’s just enough to slip down the curve of my thigh. Pool on the base of the shower before the water washes it down the drain in a swirl of violent red. It’ll stop on its own, a towel, a little bit of pressure.

Heart hammering too hard, tightness in my chest, I feel light headed as it batters against my rib cage. My fingers squeeze my thigh, pain lighting up along the separated flesh. Fear licks over my skin, through my blood as it spills out between my fingers. There’s no medical kit in here, bandages, even plasters. I know this because I went through all of the cabinets immediately after Blaze cleared them out.

It’s how I knew about the scissors.

Tummy churning, I wet my red hands under the spray, my head spinning as I release the wound, watch the crimson leak between the two severed pieces of skin. Sickness lurches its way up my throat, a heave catching in my chest, I squeeze my eyes closed tight as my head spins, the room seeming to move with me.

It feels like I’m under water, my ears buzzing, muffled, that’s when I come to, my head pounding, cheek pressed against the base of the shower. It takes me a moment to blink, the room, the night, the cutting. All of it coming back to me in stuttered increments. Slow, rolling waves lapping at the inside of my skull, the edges of my consciousness. My tongue feels heavy in my mouth, teeth dry as I run my tongue over them. Swallowing hard, I blink again, the spray of the shower cooling as it continues to beat down on my foot. Goosebumps skittering across my light skin, eyes casting down towards my legs, I search for the wound, for the blood.

Numbness dulls my senses as I get a weak arm beneath me, hand shaking as I splay my fingers, pushing myself up into sitting. The slippery surface beneath me definitely isn’t reliable so I twist my back towards the wall, my skin scraping across the slick grey tiles as I sit myself up.

My heart beats so hard that I can hear the whooshing of my blood as it soars through my veins, rushing in my ears. In through my nose, out through my mouth, I breathe deeply, blinking slowly. And without looking down, I drop a quivering hand to my thigh, place my palm over the still seeping wound.

Nostrils flaring, I lick my lips with my slow exhale, my heart still hammering, caged

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