Prologue
When I was in high school, I was goofing around with some friends on a playground. Wine and vodka were involved. Thanks to liquid courage — or liquid stupidity — I walked along the top of a jungle gym. In heels. I fell and broke my arm so badly the bone stuck out of the skin, and no amount of alcohol could anesthetize that. I thought those five minutes before I passed out was the most horrific pain I would ever experience.
I was wrong.
Now I knew there was a kind of pain so terrible it almost made you want to die.
Almost.
I wanted to live, despite how enticing oblivion was. I fought hard against the blackness that beckoned me.
“Oh, Gwennie, I will miss you. It seems like such a shame to let you go to waste, but you had to disobey me, then you tried to run. Not very smart.” He shook his finger at me as if he was scolding a child, clicking his tongue as he did so. “But you did, you saw what you shouldn’t have — so now you have to go. But not before we’ve had some fun with you.”
I couldn’t believe the vile words coming out of his mouth, the violence that had emerged from the man I thought I knew. The man I thought I loved. He circled me, perusing me coldly. I didn’t know where this creature had come from. It lurked underneath the chiseled jaw, the messy auburn hair and the bright green eyes. The sculpted muscles that I had found so enticing were being used to inflict pain on me; the tattoos I thought were sexy were mocking me every time they flew past my face for a punch.
The other men laughed. One of them kicked me viciously, and a sharp sting erupted in my side. My stomach started to feel weirdly full. The phrase ‘internal bleeding’ vaguely floated into my mind. I didn’t make a sound, but silent tears streamed down my cheeks.
“Got nothing to say, Gwennie? Funny, I never could get you to shut that smart mouth. I should’ve smacked you around more often,” he mused, peering at me the way a fox watched its prey.
“Fuck you, Jimmy,” I whispered, my throat raw and dry.
He pulled out a long knife from his belt and crouched down beside me. His attractive face was marred with a sick smile.
“No, baby, fuck you. Which is exactly what me and the boys are going to do, and after everyone has had their turn, I’m going to fuck you with this knife.”
He ran the long blade against my throat. I should have felt a sting, because warm blood trickled down my neck. But I felt nothing. The pain that had nearly crippled me seemed to be floating away — my body was weightless.
“I think I’ll go first, one for the road eh, Gwennie?” His accent caressed my name in a sick taunt.
My heart was beating furiously as I watched him undo his belt. The other monsters settled in for the show. He viciously seized my head and thrust his tongue in my mouth. I bit down as hard as I could, feeling satisfaction at the grunt of pain that came from the asshole’s throat.
“Bitch!” he yelled, punching me in the face.
My head cracked off the concrete, white spots danced across my vision.
He grasped my head again and spoke in a soft tone. “Try that again, I’ll put this knife through your spine.”
I met his emotionless gaze with determination, and spat in his face. He laughed, slowly wiping his cheek before sucking on his finger. He thrust my legs open, and I tried to struggle, but my movements were slow, groggy. I wanted to fight, I had to fight harder than this, but my body was betraying me.
“I’m going to enjoy this, much more than when you were willing, this is more interesting, no matter how good you were in the sack,” he whispered in my ear.
I barely acknowledged him, as consciousness started to leave me. I was going to die. I couldn’t fight it anymore. I prayed that I would drift away before he violated me.
“Go to hell,” I croaked, my parting shot.
Suddenly, the doors crashed open. “Police, freeze!” multiple voices yelled.
I must be dreaming, this is too good to be true.
Gunfire filled the air. Jimmy jumped up, firing shots in every direction. I watched as one by one, my captors collapsed, bullets peppering their bodies. Jimmy, the cockroach, struggled with the officers cuffing him, escaping the bloodbath unharmed. My vision blurred at the edges. The darkness that threatened to engulf me was yanking me downwards.
No, I can’t die now, I thought desperately.
“Ma’am, stay with me.” An officer filled my vision, taking off his jacket to cover my nakedness. “You’re safe now. Paramedics are on the way, I just need you to stay awake.”
I tried, I really did. I tried to fight the force pulling my eyelids down, but it won and everything went black.
Chapter One
“When is she going to wake up? It’s been over a week!” demanded a desperate voice.
“When it comes to brain injuries we have no certainties, and your sister’s body was badly beaten, she needs time to heal,” a woman’s voice responded calmly.
I tried to open my eyes, but they were glued shut — I couldn’t move my body. I started to panic. Was I paralyzed? Please, God, don’t let me be paralyzed.
I put all of my effort into trying to force my eyes open, they didn’t fought actively against me, as if they weren’t my own. I gave that up and tried to move my mouth, make some kind of sound to alert the people around me that I was awake. But I couldn’t, my body didn’t want to obey me.
My panic grew as I realized I was trapped in my own body, unable to control it. Panic was quickly replaced by darkness as I tumbled downwards once more.
A loud beeping disturbed my sleep — it wouldn’t shut up. I thought I’d be in tune to New York sounds by now, though this didn’t sound like street noise. It was too close, right in my ear. Inside my brain almost.
I was sure my alarm didn’t sound like that and Amy was never up before me. A sterile smell wafted into my nostrils, which had me instantly suspicious, our apartment was never clean enough to smell sterile.
Then the memories hit, their weight settling over me — what I saw, what happened after. The pain, not something I’d ever forget.
I tried to unstick my eyes, my vision blurry at first. It took a few minutes for the room to come into focus. I looked down the bed, noticing one of my arms in a cast, the other hooked up to an IV and the beeping machine that woke me up. My gaze wandered to the corner of the room, where a man in an army uniform was curled up in an uncomfortable looking sleep.
“Ian?” I rasped, my voice sounding like I smoked a pack of Marlboros last night. Which of course I would never do, regardless of the fact Carrie Bradshaw did. Yellow teeth and premature wrinkles? No thanks.
Ian stirred and then leapt out of his chair, at my side in a second. “Ace? Holy shit, you’re awake! Thank fuck for that!” He pushed a little red button beside the bed, eyes on me.
“Yes, but I think I might have to go back to sleep for a bit, Ian,” I mumbled, suddenly feeling exhausted.
“No, Ace, just stay awake …” Ian pleaded.
I didn’t hear the end before I drifted back into the abyss.
I opened my eyes to light streaming through the room and immediately realized I had to use the bathroom. My eyes were less sticky and less blurry, my head still foggy. I gave myself a moment to get my bearings then sat up.