She waited for it to end, for this agony to subside but it never did. The strikes became more intense, and her heart shattered with each one.
She didn’t know when he stopped or when he kicked her once again before yelling at her. Amara didn’t know when he left.
She stayed like that for the whole night. Whimpering in pain and agony. Tears streamed down her face nonstop. She couldn’t tell which part of her hurt most—her body or her heart.
The belt whips burned her skin, but her legs were numb. She couldn’t drag herself to the bed even. Losing the battle of her emotions, she let the pain overwhelm her. She let it hurt her, she let it drown her, all while thinking she’d see a light at the end of this endless tunnel of darkness. She held onto the hope that maybe. Or maybe one day she’d find the solace. Knowing full well the solace could never be achieved.
Astartlingironyhitherasahumorlesschuckleescapedhertremblinglips.Amarafistedher hands on the floor as the tears rolled down her eyes and onto the floor leaving a chilling sensation behind.
Before she could close her eyes, grey eyes flashed before her eyes. She let out a small faint smile despite the pain.
Where she found hell in one brother, the other brother brought heaven in his arms. Knowing full well that the one showing her hell was once an angel, and the one bringing her heaven was a devil.
CHAPTER 39
Amara fought against the heaviness of her eyelids, attempting to open them only to be met with resistance.
‘No!’ Her voice echoed in her head as her head pounded with sharp pain. Turning on her side as she groaned,
She grappled with the wish to see, but her eyes seemed reluctant to comply. A wave of obliviousness engulfed her, momentarily shielding her from the memories of what happened before he lost her conciseness.
Breathing heavily, she scrunched her nose, feeling another sharp pain ripple through her head. Her hand fisted her hair, seeking comfort amid distress.
As she struggled through the haze, memories crashed into her mind like a relentless storm. The names echoed with a mix of familiarity and dread– Rafael, Abigail.
A chilling shiver crawled down her spine as she recoiled from the vivid memory of his belt.
Her head throbbed with pain. The sensation of her insides being ripped out intensified, and panic gripped her. A haunting echo of her scream lingered in the back of her consciousness before she lost conciseness.
Gathering strength, she peered and opened her eyes with struggle while a pained groan escaped her lips, resonating with the effort it took to fight the heaviness.
She still could feel the leather of his belt against her skin.
Chills raced down her spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. A shiver coursed through her body.
As she shut her eyes, Rafael’s angry eyes flashed before her eyes. With a breathless exhale, she instantly snapped them open. The wounds on her back and arms felt to be bandaged. And despite the discomfort, she could hardly feel the pain. But the ache in her heart was deeper than the ocean.
What greeted her was the darkness. It appeared to be night; her eyes found the light source only to find moonlight coming from the window casting a pristine shadow all over the room.
Adjusting her focus, she could tell this room was unfamiliar. To her right were monitors and an IV bag that connected to her arm. The bag seemed to be filled with a clear fluid, connected to the back of her hand that had her fingertips wrapped in bandages.
A little tinge of fear yet anticipation mixed with both anxiousness and panic gripped her hard in unfamiliar surroundings. Where was she? This wasn’t Rafael’s apartment. Did Rafael bring her somewhere else? Where he could hurt her more?
Her breath quickened, her eyes looking around with vulnerability in them. She quickly began looking around and pushed herself into a sitting position. The soft sheets under her hands wrinkled as she ripped out the IV from her hand, bringing out blood as the needle tore through her skin. Raising herself from the bed with much effort, she unclipped the heart monitor from her fingers.
Her desperate eyes flickered around and she stilled. A large mirror was placed in front of the bed she was sitting on. Though the darkness hindered her vision, she could still make out her reflection in the mirror.
A breathless gap left her lips as she found herself dressed in a black short nightgown. The Lacey fabric cascaded down her sides resting just above her pelvis. Her arms and back were covered in white bandages, a small bandage on her forehead. Her hair cascaded down her back reaching the rim of the flimsy nightgown.
She shuddered clutching onto the fabric as several thoughts crossed her mind at once. Who changed her clothes? Why was she dressed in a backless lingerie?
Amara breathed heavily in trepidation. She needed to get out of here. Right now. The moment her feet touched the cold ground, she heard alarms go off. In a panic, her eyes broadened and she tried to run for the door when her legs gave out. She fell to the floor letting out a pained moan.
Amara quickly tried to push herself on her feet and was about to open the door when the door opened from the other side. In the darkness, she could not see anything, but she could see the silhouette of a tall and muscular man with broad shoulders standing in the doorway.
Rafael was not that tall. And he was not that much muscular either. Another fear settled in. Did someone kidnap her?
She started to panic, recalling what happened just hours ago. What was happening? Who was he? Why was she here?
