My entire body froze until a second mirror broke. I curled in the corner of the shower stall, wanting to scream, but nothing could escape me.
All I saw was darkness around me.
All I heard was the crunching of glass under footsteps.
Then the sound of my curtain against its rod whipped through the eeriness.
Two gloved hands grabbed me from the corner and yanked me from the stall.
I fought against them but was unable to get a solid grip. I reached out to grab their face, but it was covered. I tried to find hair to pull, but a hood was over their head. My bare feet slid along the glass, and jagged edges sliced through my skin. Water dripped from my hair, falling to the floor, and mixed with blood and glass.
The figure pushed me back across the floor; my healing wounds broke once again. Fear gripped me as I fought against them, crying out for help. I screamed until my throat burned and all the air left my legs. Hands yanked my ankles, pulling me through the glass until something hard struck my head.
I went limp for a moment when all I wanted to do was fight. I had no control over my limbs. A hand fisted my wet hair and dragged me across the floor until my back was against a wall. They said nothing as tears rolled down my cheeks. My cries came out as whispered pleas, and I was afraid to move. Each time I tried to lift myself against the tile, the pain of the glass cut deeper.
And then they took a piece of glass to my thigh. It burned, and I screamed out from the excruciating pain until another blow to the head silenced me.
“Please, Jude,” I begged. “Please stop this.”
The silent figure moved the glass up to my center, and before they could slice another part of me, I pushed them onto their back. I tried to stand to run, but they were faster.
My head slammed back against the tile, and I spiraled through the blackness.
Cold air surrounded me as I floated. A light beamed overhead behind my eyelids, merely warming me, though not completely. For a split second, it was beautiful—until my consciousness kicked back, and the pain replaced the peace.
Death would’ve been easier, but the agony in Ollie’s cries never would’ve made it worth it. “Mia! Someone fucking talk to me!” he screamed out. My eyes shot open to see a crowd of unfamiliar faces staring straight ahead. I tried to get up when someone pushed my shoulders back down. Ethan appeared out of nowhere, taking my hand into his at my side as I was wheeled across Dolor grounds. Ollie’s frantic voice drifted through the morning chill. I couldn’t see his face, but the sound of his voice caused what was left of my soul to rip into fragments, small enough to be carried away by the wind.
“She’s losing too much blood,” one of them said. Big brown eyes peered down at me. “You have to stay with us, darling. You have to stay awake.”
“Ethan, go with her,” another male’s voice stated as Ethan’s face expressed nothing to my left, his hand gripping mine tightly, showing more than his eyes could say.
“Get off me!” Ollie screamed. “Mia!”
The doors to the ambulance closed. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat was thick, and my brain cloudy.
Ethan pulled my hand over his lap as he took a seat, eyes locked on mine, jaw tensing.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Let’s runaway with freedom in our eyes,
to a place measured in rapture,
and clocks a sign of the times.
We could chase the moon, outrun the sun.
No cages to keep us hostage, only bound by love.
Let’s catch fire and dance in the wind.
Forget this fucking place,
let’s just …
r u n a w a y ...”
—Oliver Masters
ollie.
MY HEART HIT ROCK BOTTOM, and my chest caved. A shattered cry ripped through my throat as I fought against the two who held me back from her.
Jerry and Jinx finally released me as the ambulance rolled away, and I charged toward Lynch whose stance faced the descending bus with Mia inside.
“Lynch!” I shoved him from behind with both hands. “You have to let me go!” Lynch stumbled forward but refused to turn around and face me. Seconds later, Jerry and Jinx’s hands wrapped around my biceps to keep me back. “Look at me, you sorry fuck!”
Lynch turned around slowly, his face pale and eyes reeked of guilt.
We stared at one another.
My vision clouded and my chest heaved. A scorching ache lived inside my chest, making it difficult to breathe. “You have to let me go to her,” I pleaded, and snatched my arms from the two blokes. Taking a step forward, a blast of November morning wind swirled around us, and I should be cold—no shirt, no shoes—only the joggers with Mia’s blood soaked through and smeared over my skin. “Please,” I begged. “She’s my fiancé.”
My blood-covered hands shook at my sides as I stood there waiting. Every second felt like an eternity in these tears. If I had to wait any longer for a response, I was scared of what I could be capable of doing to him, to all of them, to get to her. Demented thoughts tangled its dirty web inside me, wanting to break me.
But Lynch was afraid to speak. He was too afraid to do anything, hadn’t bloody moved at all. Paralyzed. “You care about her,” I managed to get out. “You fucking care about her!”
Lynch’s wide brown eyes locked on mine, and all I saw in them was Mia.
Suddenly, it hit me.
All at once, everything became clear, and I shook my head. “No, that can’t be right … ” I mumbled to myself, pushing my fingers through my hair and down my face. I had to be losing it.
“Not another word,” Lynch said through gritted teeth. “Go get dressed. Five minutes. You’re coming with me.”
I turned to Jerry. He was about the same build, only a few inches taller. “Give me your shirt and shoes.”
Jerry laughed and took a step back. “Bugger off.”
“Here,” Jinx said as he worked on the buttons of his uniform. “I’m a big guy, but I don’t think you care.” His uniform dropped to the ground, and he peeled off his under shirt and tossed it over to me. Next went his shoes.
“Thanks, mate. You’re a good man, I owe you one,” I slid the second one on, “You can grab mine from my dorm.” I turned to Lynch. “Let’s go.”
Lynch never cuffed me, and the ride to the hospital was tormenting. Visions of Mia lying on the floor covered in glass and blood filtered through my mind on non-stop replay.
She hadn’t left longer than ten minutes before a sickness crept inside me, and I’d known something wasn’t right. Oxygen had been sucked from the space around me, and walking to the community bathroom turned into a struggle in itself. All my senses had known the worst, but my heart hung on to the glimmer of hope as I’d pushed that door open.
And there she had been, my little explosion of hope.
It was as if a part of me left my body, running to her as the rest of me, the weak part, stood fucking frozen and unable to comprehend the scene laid out before me. My soul cried out, and my spirit died a thousand deaths in a matter of four seconds before my feet registered, treading through the glass, caring about one bloody thing—to get to her.
Still, I couldn’t feel the glass in my feet.
The only thing I felt was the ache in my chest.