Page 91 of The Strategist
“Fuck!” Ghost wails, holding his bleeding head with one hand. He got acid on his face and neck.
Calvin stands nearby, looking scared but holding the branding iron with a shaky hand. Voices erupt, and he drops the iron to the ground.
Ghost runs off.
“They’re in here!” Calvin shouts.
My mom lies beside me, trembling. The acid is all over her face and body. Blood streams down her face because her flesh is melting. I’ve never seen skin melt like that. I cry because it’s all my fault.
Scooting closer, I want to hold her, but I’m scared I might hurt her. Her eyes meet mine, and I know she’s dying.
I choke out. “Sorry, Mommy.”
Her eyes flutter closed. I’m so scared. I try to push myself into a sitting position, but fall back. Calvin comes to help me, and I pass out in his arms.
I didn’t realize I’d used up an entire box of tissues until Arrow placed two more beside me. My voice hitched as I calmed myself. Embarrassment surfaced, and I looked away from him.
“Don’t turn away from me.” He gripped my chin gently, lifting it to meet his eyes. “I want to see this beautiful face.”
“I’m a mess, Arrow.” I tried to wriggle free.
He embraced me with his powerful arms, pressing his forehead against mine. “The most beautiful mess I’ve ever seen.” He kissed my forehead. “Let everything out. Let it go. You’ll feel better.”
“I just did.”
“No one will ever hurt you like that again.Ever,” he whispered as if he were talking to himself.
I didn’t realize how much pain and tension I’d been holding in until now. Seeing my mom’s face as she died was the most horrific thing I’d ever experienced. From that day onward, I had retreated into myself, never fully allowing myself to experience joy again.
“It’s not your fault that your mom died.”
I choked at how he could read me so well. More tears flowed down my face, probably making a mess of my makeup, but I didn’t care.
“Everything would've been fine if I had just stayed at the restaurant.”
He looked me in the eyes. “He would’ve found another way to hurt you.”
“Probably,” I said, completely drained of energy.
“How long were you in the hospital?”
“Two weeks.” I paused, remembering the overwhelming pain and grief after the adrenaline had died down. “When I returned to California, my dad’s friend—Aimee’s father—took extra care of me. He’s a doctor at the hospital. Let’s just say I had too many visits.”
I pressed my face into his chest, inhaling his musky scent that reminded me of a massive sequoia: big, tall, sturdy, and strong. When I was younger, I loved spending time in the forest. Being surrounded by all the giant trees made me feel safe and at peace. Arrow had given me back that forgotten feeling.
Silence filled the room, and there was no awkwardness. I didn’t feel the need to say anything. Arrow was giving me the space I needed to recuperate.
After a moment, I asked, “What are you thinking?”
“That I should be nicer to Calvin now.”
Warmth blossomed inside me. “He saved me.”
“What happened to Ghost?”
“He’s dead. But it took a while to catch him.”
“How’s your dad’s relationship with your grandfather?”
