Hard Water

I couldn't sleep that night. I couldn't think, either. Not clearly. This was a mess that I had been inexplicably drawn into like an unsuspecting moth to the flame, except I couldn't just turn around and fly away. Like I needed anything else to worry about.

I rolled over for what seemed like the hundredth time, twisting and turning while Callum slept soundly as normal. Nothing was really different. I would usually be unable to sleep due to the bruises pressing into the mattress and throbbing pain between my legs, but fresh air and murder clearly brings out the compassion in all of us. I was wide awake with my eyes closed and my brain just wouldn't shut off; in my half dream-like state images began to swirl underneath my eyelids, innocent pictures of home and my smiling mother and father quickly mutated into cracked skulls, glassy eyes and viscous pools of blood. I thought again about the horrible dream I had about Callum and the wedding, and a shiver creeped over my back and up my neck, despite the warmness of the bed. I squeezed the sheets tightly between my fists as if it would fight off the sensation.

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and saw Callum's face, partially obscured by darkness. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. There was no scowl or sneer contorting his otherwise attractive features; when he slept was the only time I wasn't scared of him, and I took advantage of that. I could touch his chest without him slapping my hand away, pinch his cheek or poke his nose without him scolding me for being a child. It sounded stupid, but it helped me feel closer to him in a way he would not accept. If we touched, he touched me. His personal space had to be respected like he was some kind of king - it was ridiculous but I ate it up because I was weak and secretly terrified of having to live without him.

Dawn began to filter through the curtains before I had a chance to sleep even a little; there was a sudden loud banging on the door from downstairs which roused Callum anyway. Angry shouts drifted up the stairs. He groaned and wrapped his arms around my waist, nuzzling his face into the nape of my neck. "What's going on?" he murmured. I was about to reply with an 'I don't know' when the knocking came upon our door, insistent and heavy. I could hear what I recognised to be Hollie's voice frantically urging the intruder to leave us be. More purposeful footsteps. My eyes widened. "Callum. Callum, there's people at the door."

"What?" He was awake now, propping himself up on one elbow. "Jesus, talk about fucking privacy-- alright! Christ!" The banging had gathered enough force to threaten to knock the door down, and I wrapped the duvet around myself while Callum got up and stumbled to the door in only his boxer shorts. Opening the door, he was promptly shoved aside to reveal the dark-haired man who'd been with Adam the day we first arrived, his blue eyes alight with fury as he marched towards me. Callum attempted to grab him by the arm and I reeled backwards away from him, feeling sick and confused, heart pounding in my chest. The man gave Callum another rough push and he slammed against the wall; before I could register what was happening he had grabbed my throat with one hand and my bicep with the other in a death grip, leaning over me menacingly.

"I hope you burn in hell, you black bitch." he whispered through gritted teeth.

I was too terrified to be offended and my vision was beginning to cloud over from his vice like grip. His piercing eyes drilled into mine, looking almost amused by my increasingly frantic efforts to breathe. "W--why?" I managed to choke out. His grip was too strong: I would pass out soon. Callum's attempts to wrench his arm away were proving useless.

"They're saying you told them that Adam was the one who pushed Elly. That you saw him. Why-" he crushed my head against the wall and I cried out in pain, "are-" again, "you-" and again, "lying--"

Just as I felt myself beginning to slip into unconsciousness, a familiar voice spoke quietly from the door: "Stop it, Seth."

Seth whirled round and released me immediately, stumbling back with shock when he saw Adam stood on the threshold while I wheezed for air, doubled over, and Callum ran over to cradle me in his arms.

"A-Adam?" Seth ran a hand through his messy hair. His manner had changed from murderous to almost apologetic in just a few seconds. "What the hell's going on?"

"They let me out. Say they don't have enough evidence right now. They know I can't get off the island so it's not really a big deal." He kept his peculiar, sharp green eyes trained on myself, half-naked and still heaving for air. There was a commanding aura about him that hadn't been present before, and it was strange and highly uncomfortable. He motioned towards me, turning his attention back to his friend. "I think you owe her an apology, Seth-"

"What? God damn it Adam, she told them it was you--"

"She did nothing wrong. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time and so was I. It's my mess to clean up and I don't want you getting involved." Seth swallowed, his Adam's apple visually bobbing in his throat. Was he scared of Adam? The guy who had just barged into our room and choked me half to death was scared of his own friend?

"You were in love with her," Seth said suddenly. "You were still in love with Elly, weren't you?" Adam's expression clouded over completely, his jaw tightening, eyes narrowed. Callum and I sat perfectly still and watched in a silent state of fear and confusion.

"I don't like talking about it, Seth, and you know that."

"I didn't know." Seth muttered quietly.

"What was that?"

"I said I didn't know," he repeated, his voice louder this time and more strained. His eyes glistened with something that looked like fear. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Adam was silent for a moment, appraising him. "Damn right," he said, "and now you do."