AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“If I can’t have you, no one can.”
His laugh was more terrifying than his words. The laughter of someone so twisted they’d rather I died than live without him.
Another voice speaks now, “She’s dying.”
I hope so. Death is better than a life without Daisy.
Everything fades away…
* * *
I wake up to a stark, white light. Maybe I’m really dead this time. The pain has lessened, but my limbs no longer feel like they belong to me. I’m in a hospital bed, only it doesn’t look like any other hospital I’ve been to before. No nurses, doctors, or loud patients are complaining in the corridor.
I lift my arm to get a better look at the tubes going into my veins.
“It’s okay.” A stranger leans over me. Her brow is etched in concern. “You’re going to be okay.”
I try turning my head, but a brace locks my neck in place. Terror sets in as I realise I’m restricted.
“Try not to move,” the woman says, stroking the bandage wrapped around my forehead. “It’ll only hurt you more.”
She’s beautiful with blonde hair and kind, blue eyes. She’s the kind of woman you’d see flicking their bouncy mane to advertise shampoo.
“Am I…”
“Here.” She holds a plastic cup to my cracked lips and tips it for me to drink. Half of it sloshes down my chin, even as I do what I can. Swallowing hurts like a bitch. I manage to take a few sips before wanting to fall asleep again. “Better?”
I don’t reply. Words are too hard, too tiring.
A man speaks from the other side of the room, “Is she awake?”
My senses are back on hyper-alert again. I can’t see him from my position, but the woman nods in response.
“She’s too weak,” she says. “She won’t understand what you’re saying.”
“She’s a fighter,” the man insists. “Let me try.”
The woman’s lips purse in disapproval, though she nods and steps aside. A man covered head to toe in tattoos appears at the foot of my bed. He’s not a doctor—there’s no stethoscope or gown in sight.
“Don’t be afraid.” His voice has a deep, soothing quality. Maybe he’s a hypnotist. “You’re safe with us.”
Safe? I’d roll my eyes if I could. How can I be safe? I can’t remember how I got here—wherever here is—or who these people are. Girls are taught to never accept a lift from a stranger; we’re told to carry keys in our knuckles when walking alone in the dark and to text our friends to make sure they get home okay. None of those lessons covers what to do in this situation!
“My name is Alaric,” he says, “and this is Stephanie.” He gestures at the blonde, who wrings her hands nervously. “How much do you remember about what happened?”
We were on the road, then we weren’t. Moonlight bounced off the metal, shards of glass, and the blood… So much blood. My knees sting as I crawl through the undergrowth. I can hear their laughter. Hands grab my ankles. That laugh… Spencer. It was him. He did this.
“It’s too soon, Ric,” Stephanie intervenes. “You need to give her more time. Just look at her.”
My only consolation is that there is no mirror around.
“We need to give her a choice,” Alaric says firmly. He sits in the chair at my bedside and takes my hand. His tenderness takes me by surprise, and I freeze like a mannequin. “You died, Ivy.”
How does he know my name? I must be dead. Gone. Over. This must be purgatory for women who’ve lied about how many men they’ve slept with, bought gym memberships they never use, and accidentally-on-purpose forgot to scan items at the self-checkout. Surely, that’s not enough to go to hell for, right?
“Well, at least that’s what the rest of the world will think,” Alaric continues. A grin plays on his lips. “We’re part of an elite operation, a network of trained killers.”
I don’t understand. Killers? I might have preferred purgatory.
