Bayou

Chapter 21 ~ Torment

Chapter 21

Croc joined me a few moments later, carrying a pot of hot water, a rag, and the supplies Danny had given him. Most of my injuries were superficial, minor scratches, but one cut across my knee was deep and by the time he arrived, blood coated the entire top of my leg to my ankle.

Croc shook his head, then gently went about washing the blood away.

"I can do it." I reached for the towel.

He pulled it out of reach and set back to work without comment. The whole while, he wouldn't meet my eyes, and I couldn't say I blamed him. I'd messed up, badly, and the last thing I deserved was Croc's brand of sweet, placating words. I didn't deserve comfort. Not while Eve was still unconscious because of my misjudgment.

We were silent as he cleared the blood, applied the ointment, placed band aids to hold the cut together, then wrapped it all in a thick white bandage. By the time he was finished, the floor around him was a mess.

"I forgot about them. It didn't even cross my mind until I saw the boat." My voice was small. "I shouldn't have let her go so far. I should have never let it happen."

He shook his head as he gathered the scraps of cloth and trash from the floor. "You made an honest mistake in a place you still don't fully understand." He finally looked up at me. "It's my job to protect you both." His gaze shifted to the gauze he'd applied, and his jaw clenched. "This is my failure." He stood quickly and left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving me there to finish.

I grabbed a towel from under the sink and numbly dried my hair and skin. My clothes were still soaked, but I hadn't brought any new ones with me. I didn't apply the ointment to my skin. I relished the pain, letting it wrap around me. The pain meant that I was still alive, that I'd survived, yet again, and I hoped that meant Eve would, too. She had to. She deserved it so much more. I'd used my nine lives. I'd had my fair share. She was so young, so much better, so much more worthy.

                                          🐊🐊🐊

The sun rose and fell until it felt as if it fell first and rose second. Up was down, and left was right, and all was a mess expect for the little girl who slept, too peaceful for the chaos her slumber created.

Julia took care of Eric, assuring him Eve was only tired after her hard swim. He believed her easily, believed us all. He placed his trust in us, the same way Eve had placed her trust in me.

Croc tried to get me to eat and became angry for the first time when I refused. He was an even bigger mess than I was, and the situation was taking a toll on him. He was testy, tense, and spent most of his time the same as I did. Staring at the couch. At her. Waiting.

Julia, once again, proved how much stronger she was than any of us. She kept to her routine, took care of Eric, and made sure we had everything we needed. She took the hardship like she had undoubtedly taken a hundred others. She met it head on and all but told it to kiss her ass. She kept Eve clean and would occasionally lift her head to try and get her to take water or vegetable broth, and sometimes, she succeeded.

I helped her whenever I could. I made the broth, stroked Eve's hair and offered praise I wasn't sure she could hear. I noted every change. Her healing skin, her returned color. I counted her heartbeats and watched her chest rise and fall. Sometimes, my mind would play tricks on me, and I'd panic for a moment, sure I was imagining the subtle movement. But a hand against her ribs would assure me that wasn't the case, and I'd return to the routine. Watching. Watching. Waiting and thinking.

Every time I closed my eyes, my mind reminded me of who I was and where I'd been. I saw foster siblings I'd long forgotten, scenes I'd blocked out years before. I saw my failures, lined up one by one, presented as evidence of my own guilt.