After He Left Me to Burn, I Shot Him

Chapter 5 Call a Doctor

A sharp cry cut through the air. A slender figure had thrown herself in front of Watson, taking the slap meant for him.

Amber crumpled into Watson's arms, her hand pressed to her reddening cheek.

Her voice trembled. "It's my fault, Ms. Pearson. Punish me if you have to. Just don't hurt Mr. Hayes."

Whatever guilt Watson had started to feel for Vanessa vanished. He looked at the mark on Amber's face, and his expression hardened.

Vanessa looked up. It felt like a cold, vicious snake had coiled around her.

Even on his knees, Watson radiated power. No one would ever underestimate him.

Amber's soft sobs filled the silence. Watson scooped her up, stepped over the bloody needle on the floor, and walked out without a backward glance.

Vanessa spent two weeks in the hospital. Watson never came.

With each passing day, her heart grew colder.

The day she was discharged, she didn't go back to the villa. She went straight to a law firm and got everything in order to separate their assets.

It was late when she left the lawyer's office, raining.

She got in her car. The strong perfume smell hit her. Her mind started to fog.

Her limbs went numb. She felt herself being yanked out of the car by her hair.

Her knees and palms scraped against the ground, leaving bloody trails. Her scalp screamed. Someone forced her head up.

Then a heavy slap landed on her face.

Her lip split, bloody, and her ears rang.

"One... two..."

Dark silk blinded her. Her tears soaked into the black fabric.

She bit down on her lip until it was raw and bloody.

Even her attacker's hand went numb. Her face swelled. But she wouldn't scream.

"What's the point of being so stubborn?" A man sneered. "You hurt someone precious to the boss. You had to pay."

A thought she'd been refusing to believe grew in her mind. She shook her head, trying to get rid of it.

By the hundredth slap, she was barely conscious. She coughed up blood.

The recording stopped.

They tossed Vanessa aside and played back the video—just slaps, nothing else. They frowned.

Then they grabbed her and hauled her up.

Her jaw was gripped with brutal force, her mouth pried open. With a piercing pain, a molar was wrenched from her mouth.

A scream tore from her throat—a desperate, animal sound. Only then did they nod, satisfied, and let her drop.

They dragged her like a piece of garbage, threw her in the car, and dumped her at the gates of Pearson Villa.

Rain pelted Vanessa. The sedative finally started to wear off. She found the strength to tear the silk from her eyes.

Outside, it was pitch black and pouring. Inside, the villa glowed warm and bright.

Amber sat on the couch. Watson fed her fruit, one piece at a time. She suddenly winced, clutching her cheek, eyes welling up.

He coaxed her mouth open and gently rubbed her gum where a grape seed had hurt her tooth.

His phone rang. He stepped onto the balcony. Through the sound of the rain, Vanessa heard his low voice. "I saw the video. A hundred slaps and one scream. That barely covers what Amber went through."

The words were a knife. The illusion shattered.

'It is Watson.'

The rain beneath Vanessa felt like ice. It seeped into her bones.

Blood pulsed from the hole where her tooth had been. Her mind started to go, and then, suddenly, her tooth ached.

Rain stung her eyes. In a haze, she was back in that hospital bed, crying. She saw the boy who'd slipped her candy. "Just one, okay? You'll get a toothache."

Her tooth ached.

Her heart ached.

Lightning flashed. It lit up Vanessa's pale face and the blood at the corner of her mouth.

'Call a doctor, Vanessa. The person who would have cared about you... He died a long time ago.'