Badlands by Callie Hart Read Free Book Online Page B

to his chest so it’s very unlikely. Still, unlikely isn’t impossible .  
    Shit .
    In the narrow hallway that leads to the bathroom and the bedrooms, I can hear the muted rush of running water. The lights are on in all of the bedrooms, and all the doors are ajar. The bathroom door is closed, however.  
    “Lacey?” I’m ready to blow the brains out of whoever is lurking behind the bathroom door, getting ready to kick the damn thing down first if I need to, but when I try the handle it opens easily and there are no dangerous intruders ready to pounce on the other side. There is only Lacey, curled into a tiny ball on the tiles next to the overflowing bathtub, clutching Zeth’s brutally sharp straight razor in her hand.  
    Suddenly, I remember what Zeth said in his text: she freaks out on her own. So. She trashed the place all by herself. With huge, round eyes, the tiny blonde girl shrinks back, knuckles turning white as she grips the razor closer to her chest. She swallows hard, eyes locked on my gun.  
    “Hey, Lace,” I say softly. “What’s going on?” I take my finger off the trigger and slowly holster the weapon, trying not to make any sudden movements. I survey the scene for blood but there isn’t any. Only an inch of water on the floor and a drenched, very frightened woman, panting, struggling for breath. She jumps when I take a step toward her.  
    “It’s okay, Lace. Really, it’s okay. What’s going on, huh?” I carefully inch toward her, holding my hands out so she can see I’m not carrying anything that I might use to hurt her. If anything, I’m the one who should be worried now, by the look on her face and the way she’s clinging onto that blade for dear life. I’m cautious as I lower myself down to sit next to her in the pooling water. As soon as I’m beside her she bursts into tears.  
    “He…he hurt …me,” she sobs.  
    “Who? Who hurt you?”  
    She just shakes her head, over and over again, refusing to say anything more. She screws her eyes shut tight and that’s when I make a move, prizing her fingers open so I can take the razor from her. As soon as she lets go the fight seems to leave her. She falls sideways into me, burying her head into my chest, and then that doesn’t seem to be enough. She’s climbing into my lap like a petrified little girl and my heart is my throat because I know, I just fucking know some terrible has happened to her and it hurts to even think about it.  
    “Shhh. Shhh, it’s okay, kiddo. It’s okay. I got you. Shhh.”
    Lacey sobs; it feels as though she cries forever. She shivers against me, knees drawn up close, arms drawn into her sides as I rock her in my arms. It’s not even an intentional thing. I only realize I’m doing it when my cell slips out of my pocket and lands in the water next to me.  
    “ Fuck .”
    Lacey stops crying. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice small, scared.  
    “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay. C’mon, let’s get out of here.” I lift her in my arms, and she weighs nothing at all. She doesn’t make a sound as I carry her through to the room next door, the room I normally sleep in when I crash here, and I place her down onto the bed. I rush back into the bathroom and turn the taps off, pick up my phone—it’s fucked—and go to fetch some towels to dry Lacey with. When I head back into the bedroom, Lacey’s stripped off all of her clothes and she’s standing in the middle of the room, bearing a striking resemblance to a drowned rat. Her normally curly hair is plastered to her scalp and neck, and her whole body is shaking. She hugs herself, arms wrapped around her body, shoulders up around her ears, and I’m filled with a violent and complete rage.
    Who could hurt her like this?  
    Who could damage her enough to make her into this person?
    She’s so small and fragile, like a small bird with broken wings, and I want to find the person who broke those wings and I want to rip his balls off and shove