Chapter 2
1069 Words
I was thrown roughly back into the staff dormitory.
I hadn't even caught my breath before the team manager burst through the door, followed by a handful of huge, burly men.
"Emma, you're fired. Everything here belongs to God of Speed. You can't take a single thing with you." Multiple rough hands searched me aggressively.
"I'm Damian's wife!" I snapped. "Tell him to get the hell down here and see me!"
A sharp click-clack of high heels echoed from the hallway outside. Julia glided in, arm looped snugly through Damian's, moving with that slow, deliberately elegant sway.
My hair was a tangled, matted mess, and my entire body was caked in blood and grime.
Julia clamped a hand over her nose and let out a simpering little gasp, shrinking back hard into Damian's chest.
"Damian, the smell of motor oil here is so awful, it burns my nose. Oh no, Miss Carter, why are you covered in blood? You poor thing..." she simpered.
Damian instantly wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him to shield her from me like I was some kind of rabid animal.
"Julia, stay away from this lunatic. Don't let her have another outburst and hurt you."
Staring at him, shielding her like I was some kind of rabid dog, the whole situation felt unbelievably absurd.
"Damian, I signed that psychological evaluation you wanted," I said. "What's the matter? Is the great, untouchable racing god so scared of me, a useless cripple, that he can't even leave me alone?"
A flash of ugly, stung anger flickered deep in Damian's eyes. "Leave you alone? Emma, you terrified Julia half to death. You think signing one lousy piece of paper gets you off scot-free?" he snarled. "You're going to get up at the press conference this afternoon, admit to the press you were just jealous of Julia, and withdraw your accusation. For the sake of the three years we had together, I'll keep taking care of you, useless as you are."
He paused, and his voice oozed that sickening, patronizing air of someone granting a charity favor.
"I'll wire you five hundred dollars a month for living expenses. That's more than enough for you to eke out your miserable existence out in the countryside."
I braced myself against my wheelchair armrests and lifted my head inch by inch.
"Support me? Damian, every single bit of that fancy champion title you flaunt was built sucking my blood! You expect me to bow down to a "thief"? In your f*****g dreams."
Damian's face went so dark it looked like a storm had settled over it in the blink of an eye.
Julia's eyes instantly welled with red-rimmed tears, and she bit her lower lip, wronged, holding back the tears that threatened to spill.
"Emma, I've only ever tried to help you... How can you call me a 'thief'"
But Damian just reached out and gently curled his hand around hers where she held the cup.
"The cup is hot, don't burn your hand." The very next second, he snatched the piping hot coffee right out of her grip. And he poured it straight down over my head!
"Ah!" Boiling water ran down my scalp, searing into my eyes and trickling down my neck. My skin blazed bright red almost instantly.
My whole body convulsed in spasms, and I let out a muffled, guttural grunt of pain.
Damian grabbed a fistful of my soaked hair and wrenched it hard. He forced my head to tilt up to face him.
"Since you don't even want the last scrap of dignity I gave you, I'll give you exactly what you're asking for. Throw her out. And freeze all her bank cards. Let me see how hard that dead cripple's stubborn bones really are!"
I was tossed out of the racing team compound like a stinking bag of garbage.
The late autumn wind bit into my skin like a thousand sharp knives.
I fumbled trembling for the only bank card I had left, hoping to buy just a cup of hot water.
The card machine flashed bright, glaring red letters—Insufficient Funds.
I burst out laughing. Of course. Damian never does anything halfway, he really was going for the kill.
I turned my wheelchair wheel by wheel, rolling slowly and painfully through the streets.
Up on the massive LED screen in the city center, his post-championship victory interview looped over and over again.
Damian stared at Julia with utter devotion.
"Without Julia, I would never be where I am today. She is my soulmate."
What a breathtaking, perfect little love story!
"Hey! Isn't that the crazy woman who filed a false police report that was trending yesterday?"
A shrill cry cut through the air, and a dozen rabid fans wearing Damian's team support gear swarmed in, cornering me on all sides.
"It's that goddamn cripple! She's got late-stage delusion, trying to destroy Damian!"
"You're just jealous of Julia! Why don't you just go to hell already!"
"Beat this shameless creep to death!"
A dozen furious hands clawed at my collar, yanking me hard.
They hauled me bodily off my wheelchair and slammed me straight down onto the rough asphalt. I crashed hard, and my vision spun so badly I could barely think.
Next, they hoisted my custom wheelchair, the one that had been with me for three years, high above their heads.
They crashed it straight into a fire hydrant. "c***k" It shattered into a pile of twisted scrap metal in an instant.
"NO!" I shrieked, my throat raw and tearing.
That was the wheelchair Damian had built for me with his own hands three years ago, when he'd looked at me with red, tear-filled eyes!
Someone wearing thick-soled shoes slammed their foot right down on my old broken bone, grinding it hard into the pavement.
Agony so sharp it felt like my nerves were being ripped apart tore through my whole body. I convulsed all over, cold sweat pouring off me like rain.
Slowly, everything in my sight turned blood red. Just when I was sure they were going to beat me to death right there on the street...
A screech of brakes split the quiet of the street. It was a car from the International Automobile Federation.
"Ms. Carter, your report has been officially filed. Please come with us to the hearing to bring charges against Damian."
- Writer
