NICOLE
He tosses the hose aside. It hits the concrete with a wet, heavy slap. The sudden silence is deafening, broken only by the dripping water and the violent chattering of my own teeth.
I wrap my arms around my shivering body, the soaked, ruined dress clinging to me like a second skin of ice.
He sits back down on the rusty crate, as if he's just finished a bit of light gardening, and watches me. His head is tilted, his emerald eyes curious.
"So," he says, his voice deceptively soft. "Do you love him?"
The question hits me as hard as the cold water. It's the one question I've been too terrified to ask myself. My mind, numb with cold and fear, scrambles for an answer.
Do I?
I see it all, a frantic slideshow behind my eyes.
I see Kenji, his expression utterly bored, as he shoots a man in the head for putting his hands on me. "Don't put your hands on what's mine."
I see him, his voice a deadly whisper, threatening to have Akane's hands cut off for the same crime.
