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He pressed the trigger.
I staggered, but remained on my feet as the bullet tore through me, tearing the skin apart and crushing bone. The shock paralyzed me. I didn’t even scream.
“Even if you don’t bleed out, you’ll catch an infection and wither away. Oh, it will be painful. I promise you that.” He held up his hand as if to greet me farewell. “Enjoy.”
With those words, he turned on his heels and left me. Somewhere far away, a door slammed shut, cutting off the sound of his footsteps on the stairs.
I made it to the wall before my legs buckled. Hitting the floor hard, I forced myself to sit, to stay conscious long enough to get the bleeding under control. Each movement was torture as I wriggled out of the torn shirt and pressed it to the wound. My hand trembled. My body shook. My breath came out as nothing but shallow gasps. Heat and cold enclosed me, the dizzying sense of blood leaving my body trapping me in some sort of numb vacuum. I didn’t have time to be afraid. The pain was a distant throb, muted by shock and adrenalin. It grew closer, stronger. Each passing second bringing me nearer to that black nothingness that was waiting to devour me.
Blood seeped past my fingers, soaking them in red sticky gore. I gripped the shirt tighter, pressing harder and tried to stay ahead of the pain. It burned. A searing agony that ripped everything apart inside again and again.
I couldn’t breathe. There was no air. Just humming heat that made my skin crawl, and goosebumps spread across my body. I threw my head back, finally letting the scream surface.
It was fucking worse. So much worse. I couldn’t move, I didn’t dare. The finest shift cut through me like knives. Even breathing was torture.
I screamed into the empty room. Again, and again. Letting everything rip through me as I pushed the rolled-up shirt harder against the blood. I screamed until my voice was raw and the blood stopped pooling. The single sharp lightbulb above me flickered in and out of focus. Black spots danced before my eyes, and with each agonizing breath, they grew darker.
My hand started to go limp, and the shirt slipped, jolting me back to full consciousness with the sudden pain.
Don’t sleep. I tried to tell myself.Don’t fucking sleep.
If I did, I didn’t know if I’d ever wake up again. The man was right. I lost too much blood, and without the pressure, I was sure it’d pick up again.
My best effort wasn’t enough. Trapped somewhere between life and death, I felt myself falling and had no power to do anything about it. The shirt fell away with my hand. It hit the floor with a thud, and my body followed. White pain exploded in my brain as my shoulder crashed into the hard floor. I tried to scream, but no sound came. Every instinct I possessed urged me to get up, to get away and save myself. But I couldn’t do that either. Energy drained with each drop of blood, leaving me cold and motionless while on the inside, I screamed. The shoulder raged. Burning and throbbing until I wished for death rather than fearing it.
“Please get me out of here.”
Kaylie’s voice echoed in my head, and another pain filled me. I failed her. I left her when I felt it in my gut that I shouldn’t. That something was wrong. I ignored it. Walked away from her for my own selfish need to protect myself from her. It didn’t fucking work.
“I need you.”
Someone just kill me now. Everything else was torture.
Kaylie. Her name caressed my lips, filling the room with her memory. I was going to die here. I could feel it. Life fading. I couldn’t move. Even the pain in my shoulder was weaker.
“I’m sick. I’m going to die.”
Her confession, which made me shut her out before, now comforted me. I couldn’t lose her if I died before her. Together with her.
The room spun around me. Cold slowing everything until I was floating in a dark space. Slowly. Beautifully. She was there. Her face lit up as from inside and her black hair fell around us like a curtain of silk. She smiled at me, stroking my face as she gazed into my eyes. Her ocean blue eyes held mine, making me fall into her until I was one with her. Her arms held me, hands sliding over me in endless soothing caresses that made me forget the pain and the hard floor digging into my shoulder.
“Let me have this moment with you.”
Her plea resounded within me. She could have any moment. All of them. Her arms were heaven. Her lips the soft breeze I needed to breathe.
She was there, and she was everything. My everything.
I waited in the dining room later that day. Sitting alone at the table suited for a smaller army, I felt tiny. Misplaced. I never ate in the dining room at home. Sure, we had one, just as fancy and big. But for the very same reasons I didn’t want to go there and sit there with no other company but myself and my kindle reader. That table was for parties. For big companies and joyful moments. I was never a part of any of those things.
Adjusting my legs over the massive wooden chair that seemed too big for me, too, I glanced around the room. Alex wasn’t there, and noises from the kitchen connected with an archway and a heavy white curtain let me know Lisa was busy preparing the food. I ached to join her. To slip into the kitchen and pretend I belonged. Even for a short moment.
When Mr. X strolled into the room, he did a double take. “Miss Remington. You’re up early.”
I stood, digging my heels into the soft carpet under the furniture, and spoke before he could stop me. Or before I lost my nerve. With Alex’s words fresh in my head, speaking up to this man was a suicide attempt. He not only looked dangerous with those black suits and even blacker eyes—he was, too. But I had no choice. He needed to know. “Mr. X, I know about your plans for me and Alex,” I blurted.
A twisted grin came over his face. “So he told you.”
I nodded, forcing myself to go on. “It’s just that… I’m not a good…you…”
