“I-I’m not, I swear, I’m not I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Fuck.” Spittle flies from his mouth. “Fuck.” He shoves so hard, the chair rocks and then tips. But I don’t land smoothly. The side of my head cracks off the corner of the table, pain slicing through me, taking my breath away.
Warmth trickles down my face as my vision blurs. “I-I think I’m bleeding.”
He takes one look at me and sneers. “Not so mouthy now are you, bitch.”
“W-what?” The room spins and my eyelids flutter. “I-I think something is wrong.”
I don’t feel so good.
But he doesn’t help me. He climbs over my body to move down the hall, and I lie there listening to him ransack the living room, his frustration and anger rising with every bang and clatter.
“H-help,” I cry. “Please… help me.”
I’m not a doctor but I know a head injury is never a good thing and from the way my vision is blurring in and out—
“Shit, shit.” The guy returns, his blurry form in front of me.
“What… happening?” Exhaustion seeps my bones. I want to sleep. To close my eyes and let the darkness claim me.
“Fuck.” There’s a loud clatter, and somewhere in the periphery of my consciousness I’m aware of him leaving… of being totally and utterly alone.
“Help,” I croak, the fight in my voice fading. “Someone… help me.”
“Kat?” A voice roars. “Katrina?”
Styx.
Styx is here.
He’s—
“Fuck, Kat, baby. What happened, what— shit, okay, I got you. I got—”
I try to cling onto consciousness. Styx is here. Everything will be okay now. But it’s too hard, the pull of oblivion too tempting. Maybe I’ll just sleep for a little while and when I wake up everything will be okay.
I’ll be—
“Need an ambulance. She’s unconscious… bleeding… yeah, okay.”
Someone holds me tight. A man. Familiar strong arms.
“Stay with me, Kitty. Okay? The ambulance is on its way. I need you to stay fucking with me. Please, Kat. I need you. I fucking need you, don’t leave me. Don’t leave…”
The voice fades as the darkness welcomes me.
And everything goes deathly quiet.
24
RYDER
Igroan as I roll over, trying to get my brain to function enough to figure out what the noise is that woke me.
My cell.
It’s my cell.