Free The Arrangement 13 by H. M. Ward Page A

sure if paparazzi found us or if it’s something worse because I didn’t see it. Either way, I’m not chancing it.  
    A second later, there’s a loud cracking noise, followed by the window blowing to bits. Glass fragments blast past us. I try to cover Avery, but I can’t look up to see how much of her skin is exposed. My jeans save my legs from the shards, but not my arms and back. A searing, hot pain shoots through my shoulder and down my arm.  
    Avery shakes beneath me, as her nails bite into my shoulders. I know she’s trying to wrap her arms around me, but I pin her to the floor, not allowing her to move.  
    The moment lasts forever, giving enough time for ancient worries to reseed themselves in my mind. They spring up like weeds and vine faster than I can uproot them and toss them into the fire.  
    That dreadful thought whispers in my mind, What if you can’t protect her? What if she dies?  
    That’s what does it. No matter how hard I fight it, I’m pulled into the past, into that goddamn memory that I try so hard to forget. Images flash through my mind like a slideshow: Amanda’s limp hand and curled fingers, pale and cold with dark blood pooled under her snow-white skin. I stand there seeing myself from above as if trapped in a nightmare.  
    Then I’m there, sucked into the past, standing in the doorway to our old room, and the emotions come surging back. The insides of my body feel like they’re being crushed. Amanda called me and begged for help, but I didn’t come.  
    This is my fault .  
     

CHAPTER 2
     
    ~SEAN~  
     
     
    I stand there shaking from guilt, rage, and grief. I know my wife is gone, but I refuse to accept it. I race to her side and pick up her cold, stiff hand, and that’s when I notice the baby covered in blood, lifeless and silent. My daughter is so tiny and the way she lies silently by Amanda, with those tiny fingers and toes, kills me.  
    Jaw trembling, my throat tightens and I try to force the anguish back, but it’s consuming me. Piece by piece, I feel my mind slip away.  
    That moment destroyed me and it was my fault.  
    When I blink, I feel Avery beneath my body, but the ghosts won’t release me. I choke and realize the room is silent—like before. Images from that night long ago continue to bombard me, flashing in and out of my mind, clouding the present with the past. I can’t stop it.  
    “Avery?” I ask her, shaking her slightly because she’s so still. “Are you all right?” My voice is far from steady, and as I pull back to look at her, I see that she’s lying in a pool of scarlet. A shiver takes hold of my soul and won’t release me. Incoherently, I stutter something else, but she doesn’t speak.  
    My mind fractures. I feel it coming apart as if it were a puzzle lifted from a table. One by one, rationality falls away. I want to go after whoever did this to us, but I can’t leave Avery. I call her name over and over again, before lifting her still body from the glass.  
    Pieces of the window glitter like diamonds on the floor. I walk her over to the far side of the house, out of sight of the window, and lay her on the couch. Her dark lashes flutter and she looks up at me with those eyes. “Sean?” her voice is scratchy, like she’s going to cry. Her arm has a long gash and is bleeding. She reaches for it and pulls her hand away.  
    Avery examines her bright red fingers and then looks up at me. Ignoring her own injury, she asks, “Are you hurt?” I can’t speak. There’s no way to answer that question and confess what this did to me. I don’t want to lie, so I say nothing.  
    Working quickly, I grab my shirt and bandage her arm. I don’t see any glass lodged under the skin, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. Images of Amanda flicker behind my eyes and mix with the present until I don’t know which reality is genuine.  
    I caused this. The thought races through my mind, replaying over and over again.  
    Breathe, Sean. Hold it