Chapter 3
804 Words
"Hey, dude, we got your chick. If you want her back in one piece, pay up now. I f*****g hate you filthy rich pigs!"
The man with the knife got impatient. He slashed my arm just to make a point. The sound of skin splitting was way too clear. Pain shot through me, and I broke out in a cold sweat, my lips trembling uncontrollably.
"That was her arm. Her face is next."
"Elena, you've really outdone yourself." Damian's voice was ice-cold. "Hiring people to put on a little show? Let me say this one more time. You and I were just sleeping together. You're the one who threw yourself at me."
Then he said to the kidnappers, "You want her? She's all yours. Some cheap piece of ass who's been passed around. Whoever wants her can have her."
The line went dead. The three men stared at each other, even angrier now.
They tried to pin me down. I threw myself over the highway guardrail.
My body slammed into the hard ground, and I went tumbling down the slope, head over heels, the world spinning around me. A tree trunk caught me right in the stomach. That stopped the fall.
The pain was so bad tears just started streaming down my face.
I barely managed to shift my body. Even breathing hurt. I looked down and saw a dark patch of blood spreading across the crotch of my pants. My coat was shredded. The Stitch keychain dangling from my phone was blinking with a faint light.
I reached for it, my hand shaking. The screen was slowly coming back to life. I stared at the little flashing light on Stitch and let out a bitter laugh.
Damian had given it to me on our first anniversary.
"When I'm not around, let this little guy protect you instead."
I pressed its chest without even thinking. A warm male voice came through.
"I love you."
I was the one who made him record that.
I pressed it again and again, numb to everything. Each "I love you" cut me open a little deeper.
The keychain ran out of battery. My phone finally turned on.
I opened i********:. The first thing I saw was a fresh post. Damian with his arm around Camilla's waist. The caption was short and brutal: After everything, I finally have you back.
The comments were exploding.
A: [Bro, you finally locked her down. Everyone knows you've been down bad since freshman year.]
B: [OK, that's enough scrolling for me today. Gotta go bleach my eyes.]
I stared at the matching rings on their fingers. Tears hit the screen, one after another.
Three years with him. He never let me have a ring. He never even let me post a photo where you could see my hand. And now he was making Camilla public, just like that.
The sun was blinding me. My legs were giving out. Through the dark haze closing in on my vision, I felt a pair of familiar strong arms scoop me up. I was too far gone to make out his face.
In the hospital, one IV drip after another.
He never complained. He kept warming the tube with his hands. He had rushed over in nothing but a white dress shirt, one shoe missing from his foot. His back was soaked through with sweat.
I forced my eyes open. Before I could say anything, he took a phone call and walked out in a hurry.
A wetness spread between my legs. The smell of blood hit my nose.
I closed my eyes. My brother Nathaniel Brooks's voice cut through the room.
The doctor shook her head. "I'm so sorry."
"What happened?"
"You didn't know she was pregnant? How could you let her be alone out on the highway? The first three months are the most critical. She's lost the baby. And her uterine lining is thin. Getting pregnant again will be very difficult. A young woman like her shouldn't have suffered so much. Do take good care of her."
Nathaniel was still frozen in place even as the doctor and nurses started to leave.
He made them repeat it.
"Doctor, what did you say?"
"I said your sister had a miscarriage. What kind of family would let this happen? She's only just become an adult. Fine, she didn't know any better. But you?"
The doctor had clearly seen too many girls in this situation. She scolded him and left quickly.
Nathaniel still had his back to me. His mouth hung open. He couldn't get a single word out.
The silence in that hospital room was suffocating. I dug my nails into my palms so hard that I couldn't feel them anymore. I didn't dare lift my eyes.
My throat ached with something I couldn't swallow down.
- Writer
