Just as he reached for her, Evey turned into him and dropped her face against his shoulder. She was trying, she was really trying not to scream, but something had detached her vocal chords from her brain and the commands she was sending weren't reaching.
Her mind was trying to form words. She was trying to tell Peter that Aidan wasn't like that, despite what he'd told her, despite what she'd seen, despite how she really didn't know if he was going to kill her or not. That hadn't been Aidan, not the Aidan he tried to be, not the Aidan she loved... Oh, God, she loved him. And he'd tortured and killed so many people.
But the words were getting tangled up in her brain, because even in her head, she was screaming from it. She could still feel the heaviness of the blood all up and down her arms. Blood clung to skin, even when water ran over it. It'd been thick and cold, and the smell, the smell --
Evey gagged, and shuddered, and finally clung hard, hard, hard to Peter.