A face comes to mind. Small, heart shaped, violet-blue eyes that glared at me, kissable lips that seemed to be in a constant frown, untamed, frizzy black hair that hung wildly like it had lost a fight in a thunderstorm.
I'm out of the car before I can ponder on it.
My hands slip into my pocket as I walk the short distance and stop by the pool of blood, frowning. Her black hair is matted to her head with blood and there's so much blood leaking from there, I wonder if she's even alive.
Her eyes are swollen shut, lips burst in three places. Her nose is broken. Her arms are bent the wrong way, though they remain wrapped around her middle protectively.
Boots crunch against the gravel behind me. "Is she alive?"
I c**k my head, observing. "Barely."
The wicked side to me considers turning ar
