Taking propulsion on my heels, which had luckily stayed prompted in the exact same place on the floor, I jumped, using my hips to shift my leg upward and reach Geoffrey’s head, pounding straight into his skull. He must not have expected me to fight back, or if he did, he probably prepared for a slap or an attempt of a punch, because he flung back, the loss of his balance pushing him a foot away from me.
Before I had a chance to place both my feet on the ground again, two of his men grabbed me while a third one pushed me back with a firm uppercut straight into the stomach, forcing me on my knees.
More blood spurted out as I received punch after punch, my ribs and stomach forcing the air out of my lungs with every new impulse of pain.
They stopped abruptly, their attention shifting behind me, where I only heard a few grunts and the clang of metal breaking bone. Once, twice, three times.
The two men grabbing my arms released me, hurrying to assist their colleague and I had a chance to turn back and see Galenor fight against three men while using the lift bar of his weights to slam across their bodies and use it as a shield for upcoming kicks.
He was kicking their asses, I smiled to myself, barely able to throw another punch to the man still standing in front of me before a bar of metal snapped against my temple.
Along with Geoffrey’s annoyed voice.
I didn’t have to look up to know what I would find pinned to my head.
“That’s enough,” the head guard spoke, putting a halt to the fight behind me. “You come willingly and without any more mess or miss pretty here will have brains for her last supper.”
My ears buzzed, adrenaline bursting through his veins. Everything went silent around me, I couldn’t hear voices, breaths or movement, only the tension of the gun shoving into my scalp.
Someone moved. A bag appeared out of nowhere, something shiny inside of it.
My eyes seeped darkness along with the tears that started escaping my cheeks as if they didn’t want to be present for what I was about to see. For what was about to happen.
“Please, don’t do this…” I heard myself plead with soft breaths, my voice too shattered to produce an audible sound.
“Keep your mouth shut, bitch,” the threat came along with fingers wrapping through my hair and ripping at my scalp, turning me to face what was happening behind me. To see Galenor full of blood, his skin burning with the iron chains three soldiers wrapped around his wrists, both pressed tightly against his back.
“Galenor…” I cried, desperate to get to him, to stop them from hurting him.
Through all the pain, Galenor looked at me, his depthless eyes sending sparks of hope. “Don’t worry, muffin. I’ll be alright.”
At the words, I started crying harder, letting myself fall with only Geoffrey’s hand stuck in my hair to keep me upright. I didn’t care about the gun pressed against my temple, not when I saw the burning flesh falling down his neck when they wrapped iron around his throat.
“Please!” I shouted, wanting to run to him, to stop them. To do something, anything to make them go away.
“Fucking idiot,” the man spat while removing his gun from my temple. Before I had a chance to move, a burst of pain exploded at the back of my head, turning everything blurry.
I lost control over my body and remained helpless, watching the slow rhythm of their steps while escorting Galenor away before everything around lost its focus.
Everything hurt. My pulse, my stomach, every single time I tried to draw air and I had the headache of the century.
Every part of me felt swollen, like I just woke up after a massive allergic reaction. My throat was dry and itchy and the muscles in my back convulsed uncomfortably.
I opened my eyes to the same bedroom I had started to get accustomed to, in the bed I had spent the last three weeks in. Wrapped in gauze and possessed by pain.
All alone.
“Galenor,” I tried to shout for him, but my voice barely came out, dragging out a crude whisper that sounded defeated and dry.
Pressing my body weight into my elbows, I forced myself up. As soon as my spine contracted, sharp pain electrocuted my rib cage, my body begging me to lay back down.
The fuck I will. I pushed myself into the understanding that no matter how horrible and mauled it felt, this was happening. We were getting up. A violent impulse dragged through me as I forced my chest upright, pushing my legs on the floor and pressed my weight slowly onto them, using the nightstand for support. About a minute later, I managed to do it and took my first step in what felt like years.
I had gauze wrapped around my chest and stomach and the back of my head pounded with pressure, another tight wrap pressing against my skull. Instinctively, my hand followed the throbbing pain and touched my nape, feeling something sharp underneath the cotton gauze. Stitches.
Someone had cracked my head open and left me there to rot. I didn’t have to think too hard to understand who that might be.
“Hello?” I forced my voice to call out once I opened the door to let myself into the living room and stepped into the light of the hidden cameras.
