“Leave me alone, Rev,” came the weak reply.

As if I possessed Superman’s X-ray vision, I knew exactly what was transpiring behind the door. If I strained my ears, I could hear the almost inaudible dripping of blood. Taking several steps back, I ignored Bishop when he asked, “Rev, what the hell are you doing?”

Instead, I focused all the strength I had on the obstacle in front of me. At a full gallop, I lunged at the door, busting the lock and sending it swinging open. The scene before me was just as I had imagined. Annabel sat hunkered down on the toilet with a crimson river pooled around her. The razor blade she’d used to slit her wrists lay in the midst of the carnage.

“No, no, NO!” I shouted as I barreled forward into the room.

She lifted her battle-worn green eyes to mine before sadly shaking her head. “Don’t you understand? They’ve taken everything from me—my innocence, my will to live . . . even my ability to bear children.” Tears streamed down her face. She brought a blood-streaked hand up to swipe them away. “I have nothing left.”

Jerking my T-shirt over my head, I ripped it down the center, then began to tear it into wide strips. “This is not fucking happening. Not on my watch.”

When I knelt down beside her, she attempted to scramble away from me. “Don’t you dare save me! This is my choice, dammit. I finally have a choice, and I’m ending it.”

I shook my head at her while I continued tearing the fabric. “I won’t let you do that, Annabel.”

As I reached for her bleeding wrist, she shot up off the floor, trying to escape me. A feral gleam burned in her eyes before an agonized scream escaped her lips.

“You fucking bastard! Stop being a hero. Just let me die!”

Ignoring her, I pinned her against the wall. Like a caged animal, she began to fight me, kicking and clawing. Bright red blood began to paint us both. I couldn’t imagine how she even had the strength to fight after all she had been through.

Bishop appeared behind me. “Jesus Christ!”

“Get out,” I commanded.

“Should I get Breakneck or one of the nurses?”

“Just get the fuck out.”

“Rev, she needs fucking sedation not only before she shreds you, but before she bleeds out.”

“Get. Out!” I bellowed.

Grumbling under his breath, Bishop stomped out of the bathroom. With my thighs bracing Annabel’s, I pinned her in place with my hips. I grabbed one of her wrists. Winding the ripped shirt around and around, I managed to cut off the bleeding. As I surveyed the wound, I silently thanked God she had made a novice’s mistake and hadn’t cut too deep. She would need stitches, but it was nothing life-threatening. After tying the makeshift bandage tightly in place, I moved on to the next hand just as the palm was about to come in contact with my face.

When I was done, I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. The roar in my ears and the pounding in my chest slowly began to dissipate.

Defeated, Annabel sank slowly down the wall and onto the floor. Staring at the bandages, she questioned, “Why? Why couldn’t you just let me die?”

“Because it’s not your fucking time. If it was, you would have gone up in that blast with the rest of the women.” I raked a shaky hand through my hair. “Besides, you’re twenty-four years old. You’ve got your whole fucking life ahead of you.”

Shaking her head, she replied, “A tormented life of unfulfilled dreams.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t let this defeat you. You can’t let them defeat you. You take your life and Mendoza wins.”

“Easy for you to spout out all the self-help bullshit.”

“Actually, it isn’t.”

Her brows came together in confusion as inquisitive eyes met mine. “What do you mean?”

In that moment, as the hellish ghosts of my past closed in around me, the pressure to breathe had my lungs feeling like a squeezed accordion. I had never spoken of my rape—the actual words had never left my lips. My father knew because he had witnessed the end, and Breakneck knew because he had experienced the aftermath. It had been a horrible secret we kept from my mother and brothers.

Annabel was a complete stranger to me—someone I’d known less than forty-eight hours. The reason why she deserved to know, and my blood family didn’t, escaped me. But in my heart, I also knew there was a purpose to telling her. In the macabre room splattered with blood, it seemed almost effortless to unburden myself of the sordid details I had tried to bury for so long.

The intense burden of the secret I was about to divulge weighed on me physically, and I began to sway back and forth. My left leg gave way, and I found myself collapsing onto the floor. I shifted my leg with a grimace.

“What happened to you?”

“I got shot leaving Mendoza’s.”

“When you were carrying me?” Annabel questioned.

“Not that it makes any difference, but yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Annabel snorted contemptuously. “I got you shot. It’s just one more thing to make me feel horrible about myself.”

“Hear me when I say you can’t keep thinking like that.”

“And what makes you an expert?”

“Look, I can’t say I understand exactly how you feel because I didn’t experience the same torment as you.” Holding her gaze, I continued. “But when I was eleven years old, I was raped.”

Annabel’s eyes widened in shock. Any old animosity on her face was replaced by shock and sympathy. As the deafening silence hung heavy around us, I drew in a ragged breath and began my story. The walls of the hospital bathroom melted away as I traveled across the years, back to a bedroom with a pink bedspread. As I unburdened myself, the shackles, which had once bound me in a long silence, fell away, and I experienced a freedom I’d had no idea existed anymore.