Thicker Than Blood (Thicker Than Blood #1)(91)
Chapter Thirty-Four
Evelyn
The water sluiced down over my skin, barely lukewarm but feeling scalding hot against my bruises and bite marks. I washed the wounds carefully, wincing every so often. They were healing rapidly, especially after two days of bed rest, Leisel and Alex taking turns waiting on me hand and foot despite my protests.
Even after the horde had passed, for two more days Purgatory had remained silent, no one wanting to risk alerting such a large group of infected to our whereabouts. The clubs had closed and the market was empty; the entire place had remained in stasis until just this morning.
With its awakening we’d had a visitor, a girl in her early teens. At Liv’s request, she informed me that I would be fighting in the arena this afternoon. She’d given me a pitying look before taking off down the hallway, leaving me with a sense of foreboding in the pit of my stomach.
Shutting off the water with a sigh, I reached for a nearby towel, wrapped it firmly around my body, and stepped out of the small shower cubicle. Although a metal tub with a pulley system attached to a garden hose could hardly be called a shower, it was the best damn shower I’d had in weeks.
There were a few other women with me, one with two small children, but no one paid anyone else any attention. I stepped around a pile of someone else’s clothing and headed for the counter where I’d left my own. After finger combing through my wet, but clean, hair, I donned one of the new outfits Alex had managed to get for Leisel and me—a pair of faded black cargo pants and a dark blue T-shirt that actually fit me surprisingly well.
Once dressed, I stared at my reflection in one of the many broken mirrors that lined the wall. I looked pale, maybe even sickly, and far skinnier than I’d ever been before. There was something else too, a hollow look to my eyes that I’d never noticed, maybe because it hadn’t been there the last time I’d taken a good look at myself. I tried to remember the last time I stared in a mirror, and couldn’t. Though I’d taken care of my appearance while in Fredericksville, I’d never just stared at myself. I’d never wanted to, and maybe it was because of this very reason. From the fear of what I’d find.
There had been many times, over the course of the last four years, when I’d felt worthless, useless, little better than something to be used and easily discarded. But I’d refused to admit it out loud, refused to look at myself while I thought those horrible words. But after E, after the way he’d treated me and my body… Forget the brand on my wrist, I actually felt branded now. Branded by E, and branded a whore.
And today was going to be the first time that I would see him since…
He hadn’t raped me. I had agreed to it all, and I had no one to blame but myself—not even him. He was purposefully vicious with me, purposefully aggressive and cruel, but I had known he would be. I swallowed thickly, feeling bile creeping up my throat. I shouldn’t have been thinking about E, not with my upcoming fight.
“It’s just sex,” I whispered to my reflection. “It’s just sex,” I repeated louder, willing myself to feel stronger, glaring at my sad, pathetic reflection.
We’ll be out of here soon, I told myself. With a truck, weapons, and food. We’ll continue traveling south, continue surviving. Together. As a family.
“Fuck this place,” I murmured, and forced myself to smile. I refused to be ashamed of what E had done, of what I’d done. I had a plan, a way to get us out of here, a way to protect Leisel and myself from the madness of this place. And that was all that mattered.
“I’m not a f*cking wildcat,” I whispered, chuckling darkly. “I’m a goddamn lioness.”
I laughed again, a sickly sweet laugh that did nothing but make me feel less like myself and more like a stranger.
“Eve? You in here?” Leisel’s soft voice carried across the room, echoing off the cold ceramic tile.
“I’m here,” I replied, still staring at my reflection.
As she came up behind me, my eyes flitted to her reflection, watching her gaze graze across the visible bruising on my neck and arms. She hid her reaction well, quickly meeting my eyes with a kind smile. I wanted to laugh, thinking back to how many times I’d done the same to her, hiding the disgust I was feeling for the man who’d hurt her, hiding the pity I felt for her. How quickly our roles had been reversed. Now I was the one who needed the comforting, and Leisel the one offering it.
Leaning in, she wrapped her arms around my middle, resting her chin on my shoulder, still smiling at me. Covering her hands with my own, I returned her smile. She looked so happy, so at peace, and it was a beautiful thing to see. My pain—any pain—was worth it to see that contented flush in her cheeks.
“You know I’m sorry, right?” she said softly. “I didn’t mean any of it, not even a little bit.”
“I know, you’ve told me.” My eyes again met hers. “A lot.” I smiled.
She nodded once and looked away, apparently not wholly convinced that I believed her. She wore her guilt like a badge, visible for all to see, as if she believed that she owed it to me to feel bad. When in truth, it only made me feel worse.
“You ready?” she asked carefully.
She was worried about me, about the fight, about what happened with E, but she was being strong for me, trying to help shoulder my burdens. I appreciated that more than she’d ever know.