The Girl From the Woods

28

Bridget's fingers pressed against my bruises, and I winced. I was covered in them. She flinched at my reaction, her eyes at a downcast.

"Sorry," she murmured.

It was dark in my room, and shadows crept along every surface. They crept along Bridget's face, and when her hand brushed my cheek, I closed my eyes.

"Do you want more ibuprofen?" she asked.

"No," I answered, running my hand along her hip. "I want something stronger."

"I'll go see if you have any vodka."

Once she was gone, I could be alone with my thoughts. Over the last few weeks, we had gotten much closer, and she had helped me through a lot. We'd even attempted to track down Victor together, but we're not having any luck.

The door opens and closes, and Bridget's curled around me again, the smell of vodka carrying in the air between us. She passes the bottle, and I take a sip. The liquid burns but I don't care. I need to shut off my brain, and this will help.

"We have to find him," I said. "I have to clear my name, but the cops are idiots and have pegged me for Rachel's murder from the start. They think I'm bullshitting about Victor, too."

Bridget's lips are pressed against my neck, and she pulls me closer.

"It'll be okay," she whispered. "We'll figure it out."

I wanted to believe her.

And I wanted justice for Rachel.