Chapter 6: Good Samaritan
1005 Words
~ JESSICA ~
I woke to the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling above me. It was a warm, wooden surface, not the cold, grimy one from the warehouse. My body ached all over, and I struggled to sit up. I was lying on a soft bed, with clean sheets that smelled of lavender.
I looked around, trying to make sense of my surroundings. The room was small but cozy, with a single window letting in the morning light. A chair was placed beside the bed, and sitting in it was a man I didn’t recognize.
“Good morning,” he said softly, noticing I was awake. “How are you feeling?”
I instinctively backed away, pressing myself against the headboard. “Who are you? Where am I?”
He held up his hands in a show of surrender, his lips quirking at one side as he said, “My name is Jack. I found you on the side of the road last night. You were unconscious and looked like you needed help, so I picked you up and brought you to my home.”
When I didn't respond to him or let down my guard, he dropped his hand and smiled. "Relax. I promise not to hurt you."
I took a moment to process his words. My memories were hazy, but fragments of the previous night started coming back. The warehouse, the kidnapping, and the desperate escape. I felt a pang of fear slice through me at the thought of Adam and Mary.
“Why did you help me?” I finally asked. My voice sounded gravelly, and my tongue felt heavy, but I ignored it. Nothing was more important than finding out if this stranger was an enemy or a potential friend.
Jack sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I couldn’t just leave you there. You looked like you were in trouble. Besides, I used to be a detective. Helping people is kind of in my nature.”
A former detective. That explained the calm, authoritative demeanor he was portraying. There was nothing I could do but believe him at the moment, but that did not mean I trusted him. Not yet. After a few awkward seconds, I decided to respond.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice trembling as my adrenaline began to drop, and exhaustion began to set in. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t found me.”
Jack nodded, a serious expression on his face. “Can you tell me what happened? You have a knife wound at your thigh. I was able to redress it, but you might need to see a doctor for it."
Fear sliced through me at the mention of a doctor. "No!" I exclaimed. "No hospitals."
Jack studied me for a few moments before gently asking, "Why were you out there all alone?”
I hesitated, unsure of how much I should reveal. “I… I don’t remember,” I lied, avoiding his gaze.
Jack said nothing as he studied me some more. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he nodded slowly. “I understand. Sometimes, it takes a while for memories to come back. You should rest.”
He stood up and offered me his hand. “Let me show you around the house. You’ll feel more comfortable knowing where everything is.”
I hesitated but then took his hand. As I followed him, I took in the details of the house. It was a modest two-bedroom bungalow, with wooden floors and walls lined with framed photographs. The living room was cozy, with a worn-out sofa and a coffee table cluttered with books and papers. A small kitchen adjoined the living room, its countertops clean but showing signs of frequent use.
Jack guided me through the hallway, showing me the bathroom and the second bedroom, which was his. Then we walked back to the room I had woken up in. “This is the guest room,” he said, opening the door again for me.
“This is where you will be resting,” he said gently. “If you need anything, I’ll be in the living room.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, stepping inside. The door closed softly behind me, and I was alone.
I sat down on the bed, feeling the weight of everything that had happened crash down on me. Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought about Harrison. His betrayal was a knife in my heart. How could he accuse me of cheating, kidnap me, divorce me, and then try to kill me?
I knew he said he didn't love me, but to do all he did? It didn't make sense.
I buried my face in my hands, sobbing quietly. The pain in my heart was overwhelming, but there was another pain—an ache in my stomach that I couldn’t ignore. I winced, clutching my abdomen as the pain intensified.
Suddenly, I felt a wetness between my legs, and panic surged through me as I reached down and touched the liquid. My fingers came away stained with blood, and even though this was my first time experiencing it, I knew what it meant.
My heart began pounding in terror.
“No, no, no,” I whispered, feeling a cold dread wash over me. “Please, no. Not my baby.”
I screamed, the sound raw and filled with anguish. The door burst open, and Jack rushed in, his face twisted with concern.
“Jessica, what’s wrong?” he asked urgently, coming to my side.
“I’m bleeding,” I gasped, showing him my bloodstained hands. “Something’s wrong with my baby. Please, help me.”
Jack’s expression turned grave as he gently lifted me off the bed. “You are pregnant? Why didn't you tell me?"
I couldn't respond. All I could do was cry.
Muttering a curse, Jack scooped me into his arms. "I'm sorry, but we need to get you to a hospital now.”
- Writer
