Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
Ignoring the sound of blood rushing in my ears, I ask, “This is about money?”
The stranger in the black tank top snickers. “It’s always about money.”
I hold up both palms in a surrendering gesture. “Then take my fucking money and leave me alone.”
The delighted, knowing expression they exchange with each other tells me they have no intention of making it that simple.
Fuck. Me.
My back connects with the glass door behind me as I scurry backwards. Cold sluices through my limbs, locking my spine up. My attempt at jumping to the side is thwarted, a set of bony fingers locking onto each bicep from behind. With a panicky, enraged sort of scream, I slam my foot and elbow back at the same time. It connects with Stoney’s gut and shin, a loud grunt emitting from his chest.
Before I can bolt away, the man in the black tank top charges toward me. I duck, trying to evade the boot flying toward my gut, but I’m a moment too late. When it hits me, all the air in my body is knocked out of my lungs, my breath wheezing out as my knees slam onto the pavement beneath me.
I gasp, palming the ache rippling through my gut. “What the hell is wrong with—”
I let out a roar of pain as both men take advantage of my moment of weakness, their bodies lunging forward as I’m pummeled with fists and boots. Pain erupts inside my body as I throw my hands up to protect my face from the relentless blows. Every time I attempt to do something other than feebly defend myself, they land another blow so quickly, I’m forced to back off.
“Fu-fuck! Why are you doing this?” I scream.
Why…why…why…
When the pain becomes too much, my clothes bloody and ripped, my strength waning, I manage to curl into a ball to protect my belly.
And still, the blows come.
Until every inch of mehurts, and Ibecomepain.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I lose the resolute urge not to cry. My body thrashes and flails as I try and fail to protect myself, my throat turning raspy and hoarse from my ragged cries. Black spots begin to dance around the corners of my vision, everything around me spinning.
There’s a deep, breathless chuckle. “That’s enough. We don’t want to kill him. Just scare him shitless.”
Finally, finally the blows stop and I’m ashamed to say I weep with relief as my body uncurls itself and collapses onto the wet pavement. Big, ugly, heaving sobs rack my chest as two pairs of hands grab at me, roughly jamming into my pockets. I spit and cough blood as they take everything: my wallet, my keys, even my phone.
The phone lands onto the hard pavement with a shatter, someone’s black boot grinding into the cracked screen for added effect.
As their car disappears in a cloud of exhaust smoke, I try to sit up but only end up grinding my teeth in a closed-mouth scream as white-hot pain races across my ribs. My face burns hot from the effort, and I eventually sag back down onto the ground with another cry.
Black dots speckle across my vision again, the black sky spinning above me as I lift my throbbing hand. Two of my fingers are bent at unnatural angles, the sight of it making me want to puke. Gingerly lowering my hand back to the pavement, the vision in my right eye narrowing as it swells, I decide I’m not going to inspect the rest of my injuries. Everything aches, every breath and movement bringing sharp stabs and jolts of white-hot agony.
It's safe to say I’m fucked.
“Somebody…help,” I croak, my lips trembling when I realize nobody knows where I am.
My phone is smashed to smithereens, I can’t move without screaming in agony, and Alek thinks I’m on my way home. The only personwho knows I might still be at work is Eve because she texted just a few—
Holy shit.
She told them where to find me.
The realization hits me like another blow, the dots slowly connecting, despite my waning consciousness. She never asks where I am, has never given a shit where I go when I’m not with her.
Until today.
Shortly after I refused to give her money again.
Right before they showed up and turned my world into agony.
