25. Dominic

TWENTY-FIVE

DOMINIC

"You better not fucking hurt her with that," I growl, eyeing the needle in Gwen's hand.

She gives me a deadpan look. "I'm about to stitch her up without anesthetic. Of course, it'll hurt."

Gwen looked like a ghost when she opened the door to find me covered in blood, clutching Camryn to my chest. We had nowhere to go. Gwen was the only person who could help us.

Now, we're in her kitchen, having cleared the table.

"Are you sure you can do this?" I ask her when she blows out a steadying breath, the needle trembling in her hand.

"Do you want me to be honest, Dom?" She points to Camryn on the table. "You should have taken her to the hospital. I volunteer with my mom at the vet clinic on weekends. I'm not a qualified nurse. I've been shown once or twice how to stitch up the odd cat or dog. I mean, we're lucky my mom even has equipment here."

"We can't go to the hospital," Camryn replies, wincing with pain as she tries to look over her shoulder to see what Gwen is doing.

I stroke her matted hair away from her damp forehead while Gwen stares at the deep gash, needing to reassure myself that she's okay.

"Wilfred is dead…. It'll raise too many questions if we go to the hospital." Camryn looks away, focusing her eyes on me, and I take her bloodied hand in mine, watching Gwen place her latex-gloved hand on Camryn's leg.

She inspects the flesh wound before shaking her head. "You're so lucky it was nothing but a nasty graze." She tilts her chin at me. "Can you roll the towel up for her to bite down on, please?"

I pause, glaring at her, and she sighs. "Why don't you leave the room since you won't be helpful?"

"I'm not leaving."

"Dom," Camryn says and squeezes my hand, or at least she tries to. Her grip is weak. "Please, listen to her."

My teeth grind as I reluctantly let go of her clammy hand to roll up a towel. How did we get here in the first place? What if her mom finds out that she broke into Wilfred's house and got shot in the leg? How the hell are we going to keep this from her? Besides, it's only a matter of time until Wilfred is found.

Camryn bites down on the towel, her eyes uncertain but determined.

"It's a deep gash," Gwen says, pinching the skin together, and I almost want to throttle her when Camryn whimpers. She gives me another warning look as if she hears my thoughts, then focuses back on Camryn's leg.

When she puts the needle to the flesh, I stiffen every muscle.

"This will hurt, Cam."

I force myself to watch despite the urge to look away as the needle pierces the flesh. My stomach twists, and I taste bile on my tongue.

I'd return to the farm and slaughter Wilfred if he weren't already dead. Make it hurt this time.

Green strands of hair stick to the sheen of sweat on Gwen's forehead, her brow pinched in concentration. She works quickly, stopping now and then to allow Camryn to breathe through the pain when she struggles to stay still.

"You're doing well, almost there."

I tangle my bloodied fingers in Camryn's hair, needing Gwen to hurry up before I lose my fucking cool and pummel her to the ground.

When she's finally done, she cuts the suture with scissors. Then she puts the tools away and swipes her forearm over her eyebrows, wiping away the sweat. "It'll scar, and you'll need antibiotics, or you risk an infection."

While she removes her bloodied latex gloves and discards them in a nearby trash can, I crouch down to look Camryn in the eye.

"You did so fucking well."

Her smile is weak. She's tired.

I swipe the tears from her cheeks with my thumb, then lean in to kiss her soft lips. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," she replies, her bottom lip trembling.

"I should have protected you."

Shifting, she trails her fingers through my scruff. I lean into her touch and kiss her palm before rising to my feet.

Gwen cleans her up while I pace, restless, clenching and unclenching my hands and tearing at my roots. Not even the prickling pain helps soothe this fury within me at seeing him touch her.

"She needs to rest," Gwen says, trying her damn best not to tremble now that it's over. "Take her upstairs to my room."

Camryn whimpers when I scoop her into my arms. Pressing my nose to her hair, I breathe in the scent of blood and sweat. Beneath the horror of the last few hours is something sweeter. Something uniquely her. I allow it to settle my pounding heart as I carry her upstairs.

I tuck her into Gwen's bed, and she's out like a light within minutes, her soft breaths easing the brewing storm.

Trailing my fingers through her hair on the pillow, I watch her sleep, wondering when she crawled beneath my skin. I used to harbor such inexplicable anger toward her, yet now, as her chest rises and falls, I want to protect her.

My chest tightens as I brush her hair away from her brow and kiss her clammy forehead. I've done that a lot lately—felt the need to touch and kiss her and to just…be near her.

I leave her to sleep and then walk downstairs, still wearing my bloodstained clothes.

Gwen looks up from her phone when I collapse onto the kitchen chair and retrieve my Zippo from my pocket. She sits across from me and stares into the distance before her face collapses. "What happened?"

A lump forms in my throat when memories flood back in. I strike a flame, watching it dance in the silence. My Zippo is the only item I have of my dad's. If I ever lose it, I'll be fucking devastated.

Gwen is waiting for a response, so I sigh and put the Zippo down, and then I rest my elbows on the table and drag my fingers through my hair. I pull on the strands, but the pain does nothing to calm me down. "We drove past Wilfred's farm, and Camryn wanted to investigate. I couldn't fucking stop her." I jiggle my knee beneath the table, my fingers tangled in my short strands. "Wilfred walked in on us in his living room, and Camryn… She was…" I pull harder, feeling my eyes burn with unshed tears. "He touched her."

Across from me, Gwen swipes at her wet cheeks.

"I beat him up, but he got away. It was bad."

"What happened next?"

Shaking my head, I drop my hands to the table and meet her sorrowful gaze. "He attacked me, knocked me out and tied me up, and then he shot her."

Outside, a car drives past, the sound muted. I can't look Gwen in the eye, so I focus on a scratch on the table.

"He held the shotgun to my head, and Camryn was ready to…" I grimace as the pain behind my ribs spreads.

I can't fucking breathe.

I curse and shoot up so fast that the chair topples over. Gwen barely flinches, watching me pace. I walk up to the window, peering at the houses across the road. One of the neighbors shoves a bag in the trash can, shaded by a tall tree, streaks of sunshine breaking through the canopy of leaves overhead.

A shiver runs through me as a gentle breeze sways the gnarly branches. "Something entered through the open window," I mumble, watching the man walk back up the drive.

"What do you mean?"

I turn away from the view and lean back against the counter. "You know what I mean. Something is hunting us."

Gwen watches me cross my ankles and curl my fingers around the counter's edge before she rises to her feet and picks up the Zippo. She hands it to me and shuts the window. Then she lingers by my side, her arm brushing against mine as she whispers, "I'm scared."

There are specks of blood on my Doc Martens. Swallowing past a growing lump in my throat, I shift my gaze to look at her.

She smiles weakly, her eyes swimming with tears, as she shakes her head and laughs beneath her breath. Straightening up, she hugs her arms around herself. "How do we defeat it?"

I watch her scuff the ground with her foot. Her red socks have a chocolate bar pattern, and her frayed jeans shorts are stained near the pocket. She smells of cherry and antiseptic.

I already miss the girl upstairs.

"How do we defeat it, Dom?" she repeats, her chin quivering. "Benny and Wilfred are dead, and Brittany is in hospital." She sniffs, swiping at her eyes. "At least it attacked him instead of you guys."

"I think Brittany was right," I reply, crossing my arms and flicking the Zippo lid open. "It wants Camryn... Whatever it is. That's why it protected her by killing Wilfred." I flip it shut again.

Gwen's chest inflates with a deep breath. "What does that mean?"

"Fuck if I know." I shrug, uncrossing my ankles. "It feeds on strong emotions. Fear. Anger. Desire."

"You think it needs to feed to grow stronger."

"Maybe." I wet my lips, considering all possibilities. "We need to do some research."

"What research?"

That's a good fucking question. How do we find out information about a…supernatural being? How do we defeat it? "We start with the missing family. Scour the local library for information."

She nods, worrying her bottom lip while looking deep in thought. "Yeah, let's start there."