I step out of the shower and dress quickly, wrapping a towel around my damp hair. Just when I sit down and turn on the TV, there's a knock at the door. Not thinking, I open the door and jump when I see his face and the anger his eyes hold.
“Ella, hide!” I scream in a panic. I try to slam the door on him, but he's just too strong. When he pushes on the door again, I'm launched back onto the floor from the sheer force of his push.
“Cami, you need to hear me out,” he says, taking another swig of liquor from the bottle in his hand before shutting the door.
“I told you, Ty, I’m done,” I say, trying to keep my voice level. He walks closer and stands over me and laughs.
“All I see is fear in your eyes. You're afraid of me, aren't you?” he asks.
I shake my head and try to slide back to the edge of the bed to get away from him. His face grows dark and he reaches down, grabbing me around the throat. Tears begin to flow from my eyes, and my vision starts to blur as he grips my throat possessively. I feel nothing but death breathing down on me. A cold chill takes over as my eyes flutter open and shut from my air supply being limited. I don’t want to think about what I’m feeling. I can’t. I feel my body quaking, fluttering erratically inside. Adrenaline surges through me and my reflexes kick in. I fight with everything in me not to pass out.
“Stop fighting me,” he screams just centimeters from my face. In that moment, I realize that I've knocked the whiskey bottle from his hand. From the corner of my eye, I can see the shards of glass from the broken liquor bottle, so I reach for them. He catches me reaching for it and snatches my arm and pins it under his knee.
“No way you’re getting that,” he says, smashing my head against the floor and grabbing a large piece of glass. I cry out and he laughs wickedly before pressing the broken glass into my face. “If I can't have you, I’ll make sure no one will want you,” he says as he presses it deeper into my flesh.
I can feel my warm blood beginning to pool under my head as he cuts down my face. The pain is too much and I can feel myself losing consciousness. Looking up at him one last time, I can’t believe the hate I see. This time, when my eyes fall shut, I am thrust into complete darkness.
20
Jett
“I can’t believe that asshole got me,” I complain to Wilson as he stands watch next to my hospital bed. They don’t even put me in a room. They see my vest and patch me up right in the hallway. I don’t ask for pain meds—Wilson gave me tequila on the way here.
“Meh, you were being slow. Honestly man, I think you let him hit you so we could come back here and look for that girl. You said you ran into her here, right? In scrubs? So she’s gotta work here.”
“Yeah but I’ve ridden by every day this week and haven’t caught up to her. I don’t want her to think I’m stalking her.”
“You’re nearly done, just stop talking,” the nurse says as she puts the last bandage on my eye. I probably look a mess. Stupid fucker. God damn drug dealers trying to mess up my town? Hell no.
“All done,” the nurse says with a small smile. “The doctor will make sure that heals up nicely.”
“I don’t need to see a doc, sweetheart, you’ve done well enough, I’m sure.” I watch as she blushes a bit and then grabs my electronic chart.
“You can head out the front, they’ll handle billing there.”
“Ok, thanks.” We pay my bill in cash and get ready to go.
“You’re lucky the club let you come here. Usually we clean up our own messes.”
“Yeah I know, but I’ve got a pretty face, can’t be fucking it up with some gash above my eye, now can I?”
Wilson laughs and slaps me on the back. We walk toward the exit and the place is buzzing. Big city hospitals always have something going on. An ambulance pulls up just as we’re at the glass sliding doors. We step out of the way of the medics so they can unload the passenger. I’m in perfect line to see the body when they open the doors. My heart drops in my stomach like a steel ball.
“Cami,” I whisper under my breath. Her blood
soaked hair is the first thing I notice. Then, the long, jagged cut down her face registers in my brain. A teenage boy steps off the ambulance behind her.
“What happened? Was she in a wreck?” I ask the distraught young man.
“N-n-no,” he stutters. “I don't know what happened to her.”
I quickly follow behind him into the waiting room.
“Isn’t that the girl? Rum and coke? This isn’t what I meant by catching her here man. I’m sorry.”
I nod solemnly. I hear Wilson pull out his phone and call the club. “We’re not going to be back for a while,” he says. She’s wheeled away immediately and we’re left sitting in the waiting room once again. I find myself staring at the white walls around me as a million different scenarios play through my mind.
I watch as two nurses talk behind a counter across from us. Wilson doesn’t speak; he’s got his head back and eyes closed. “She isn’t showing any signs of consciousness and she’s being taken to the ICU.” Fuck.