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She answers by removing her hands from my breast and clamping them around my throat.
I grabbed her wrists out of reflex, but she's so strong, and she has leverage over me. I pound on her arms with my fists and try to claw at her face, but she pulls her head back so it’s out of reach. Christian’s words and his concern for me starving myself make sense now. Not that he knew this would be happening, but precaution—always take the necessary precautions.
My eyes are bulging, and my lungs are screaming for air, but I can't breathe. She's going to kill me. Why is she going to kill me?
I try to shout or make any noise to bring Christian back, but I can't make a sound. She grunts when I land a punch against her chest but doesn't lessen the pressure. If anything, her hands tighten. The world is going gray, and suddenly, everything seems far away.
The tools. I remember them, and my hand shoots out to grab anything within reach. I close my fingers around the first thing I find, a thin metal rod, and jab at her hands with it.
“You little bitch,” she hisses, removing one hand and holding my throat with the other while trying to fight me off. It's enough to give me a little bit of room to breathe, and I gulp in as much air as I can manage before she tightens her hold again. She knocks the probe from my hand, and it skitters across the floor.
She's leaning closer now. I claw at her cheeks, her eyes, anything I can reach. If I could only scream, but all that comes out of me is a gurgling noise. This is how I'm going to die. After everything I've been through, I'm going to die here.
I clench my fist and swing it as hard as I can, hitting her nose. She groans, using both hands to clutch what's now spurting blood. That's all I need.
I let out a broken, choked, “Christian!” before she's on me again, more vicious than before now that I've hurt her.
She shakes me, putting all her weight against my windpipe as my head flops like a rag doll.
Then she stops. Reality comes back into focus, and I pull in a painful breath as a furious Christian drags the doctor off me. “What are you doing?” he snarls.
I hold a hand to my throat. It feels like it’s on fire. “Tried... to kill me…”
She's quick, delivering a sharp elbow to his ribs. But he's stronger than she knows, maybe even more so thanks to the rage that makes him bare his teeth as he takes her by the throat and shoves her up against the wall beside the bed. She's like an insect impaled on a pin, flailing around helplessly with no chance of escape.
He looks back at me. “Are you all right?” I nod since that's all I can do without it feeling like bolts of fire are shooting through my throat.
He leans in close to her until their noses are almost touching. She claws at his arm the way I clawed at hers. Now she knows how it feels. “What is this about?” he snarls. I hardly recognize his voice. “Who are you? Who sent you?”
At first, she only glares at him, blood running down over her lips and chin thanks to the single punch I managed to land. I don't have to see his hand tighten further to know he does it. The way her eyes bulge is proof enough, not to mention the way her clawing becomes more frantic.
“Answer me. Who sent you? Why did you do this?”
“Paid. I was paid.”
“I figured as much. I want to know why. Who was it?”
Her eyes bulge, her lips working with no sound coming out. He must let up a little because she sucks in a ragged breath. “Don't know. No names.”
“How do I know that's true? Maybe your nose isn't all I can break. Eventually, I’ll break enough that you'll beg to tell me the truth.”
“It's true!” she gasps.
I would feel sorry for her if she hadn't tried to kill me a minute ago. If she hadn't looked so cold and vicious while she was doing it.
“This is your last chance. I'm going to start breaking things. Maybe I'll start with a finger. Maybe I'll shoot a kneecap.” He glances my way, wearing a sick smile. “Maybe I'll have Siân decide. I'm sure she has a few ideas.”
I nod slowly, looking straight at her.
“I swear.” The fight has gone out of her, her body almost limp. “No names. Don't know. Kill her. That's all.”
“Very well.”
I'm shocked when he releases her. So is she, her face going slack with surprise when he lets go of her throat.
He gives her a moment to process her freedom before—then takes her face in one hand and smashes her head against the wall. She doesn't drop like the man in the alley but instead stumbles forward, then falls to her knees.
