FORTY TWO

There is no more innocence in her eyes. Ryder ran a finger down Alecia's pale cheek, feeling dampness- evidence of her tears. His hand trailed to the bandages over her wrist, covering the ten stitches it took to close up the wound. A deep sob formed in his throat before a few tears slipped out. He pushed a fist into his eye, trying to push the pain away, but it only grew. What had he done? He had destroyed her. 

 He turned from where she lay on the bed, covered in his black silk sheets, and walked into the hallway as a voice as soft as the wind beckoned to him. Leave, it called. Whenever he stopped to listen to it, it vanished like a ghost exposed to light. He walked outside of his Manhattan penthouse to the balcony, and placed his hands on the rail of the deck - the cool dry air floated around him - feeling like an omen. From this view he could gaze at the tall skyscrapers that pierced into the night sky, as if trying to prove their dominance. Car lights shined lik