Cancer.
It's a curse.
It turns people's lives upside down and ruins their relationships.
Brynne Foster is a perfect example.
After being diagnosed with leukemia at age 17, Brynne's family struggles to accept her decision of refusing chemotherapy...
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"We've been at this for hours, boss. I don't think she knows anything."
Red liquid falls from my nose and into the accumulated pool of blood beneath the wooden chair. My wrists ache from the tight handcuffs they locked me in, and my face is numb from the numerous punches I have withstood.
Of course, I don't know anything. I've never seen any of these people before in my life.
The tall man in the suit growls,
"She must know something. Wright wouldn't put her in danger unless she knows about his business," His heavy Colombian accent peeks through his words.
What business?
I wince as the man beside me lifts the iron baseball bat.
"Tell us where Wright keeps the drugs. Then, we'll let you go."
They have asked the same question more times than I can count. I didn't even know Blake had drugs. I'm guessing this has something to do with the paper on his desk.
"I don't know," I whimper.
The man slams the bat into my stomach, and I scream in agony. Blood spills from my mouth and onto the man's clean suit.
"You little bitch!" He roars.
His voice echoes throughout the room and bounces off the walls. He grabs my hair and pulls my head upwards. I finally have a clear view of his face.
His dark hair and sharp nose remind me of Blake's same features. The only difference is that his eyes are emotionless. It's like has been overtaken by evil. He also looks a couple of years older. He may be in his mid-twenties. Still too young to be this cold-blooded.
"Listen here, puta. I don't care if Blake told you not to tell anyone where he keeps his supply. I also don't care what kind of stripper or prostitute you may be. If you tell me, I may consider sparing your life," He practically spits. The hot air of the room makes this ten times more excruciating.
If my life wasn't on the line, I would probably make a disgusted face and punch him where it hurts. I close my eyes and prepare myself for the impact of the bat against my body. I should have never asked Blake to help me with the stupid list. Look where it has led me. I don't even want to fathom what they have done with him. If they are being this brutal with me, I can't imagine how they are treating him.
This time the bat pounds against my knee, and I hear it crack under the force of his blow. The shriek that comes from my throat is a sound that I did not know I could execute. If the room wasn't purely insulated with metal, I'm sure people within a mile radius could hear me. After a couple of seconds, the pain sets in, and I can't open my eyes without tearing up.
The man in the suit withdraws from the room frustrated, and his protege follows. As soon as they shut the heavy door, I groan in misery. My knee feels like it may fall off from all the blood rushing. I try to wiggle my hands from the handcuffs, but it's no use. I slump back into the chair and try to slow down my breathing. I am going to waste my scarce energy by hyperventilating.
Instead, I think about why these men want to know where Blake keeps his 'drugs'. By the looks of their facilities, they could probably get drugs elsewhere and at a much more reasonable price. Blake is a one-man show. They wouldn't profit from buying from him.
Unless Blake owns a drug cartel.
I wouldn't put it past him. He's always been good at business and handling money. That would explain where he had the funds to buy a BMW when he was sixteen.
All the pieces are finally coming together. Maybe this is the business Blake's father left him with when he died. He wouldn't have had any choice if it meant supporting him and his mother. Come to think of it, he inherited the business at around the same time Grant and he stopped talking. Maybe the drug business is why they argued. Maybe, that's why Grant has always made sure I stay away from Blake.
It all makes sense now.
I wish Grant would have been more specific about why Blake is a dangerous person. Maybe I would have had second thoughts before getting into a car with him if I had known about all of this. Maybe, I would have had second thoughts before having sex with him.
But all is done now. I can't regret what's already in the past. I have to focus on getting out of here. I try to wiggle out of the chair but stop because of the pain in my stomach. I think something may have ruptured.
Great.
I lean my head forward and shut my eyes.
I'm so sleepy.
A little nap wouldn't hurt. Right? Just as I drift off, the door swings open, and someone rushes inside.I don't have the energy to look up and see who it is. I know that whoever it may be, they are here to torture me again.
"Brynne?" I hear a familiar voice question.
My head instantly jerks up as I realize who it is.
Blake.
He's here to save me.
He rushes towards me, and I try to whisper something but am rendered mute. My throat burns as if it's bruised. He kneels in front of me, and his face drops as he examines my bruised and battered body.
I open my mouth once more, but nothing seems to come out.
I grunt frustratedly.
"Shhh, it's okay," He whispers as he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, "I'm going to get you out of here."
My body relaxes at his words. I slightly nod as my eyelids begin to slip.
I'm so tired.
He tenderly runs his fingers through my hair and pulls out a bobby pin. He fiddles around with the handcuffs, and after a couple of seconds, they come undone, and my wrists are free. I sigh in relief. He loosens the rope on my ankles and forearms, sending a wave of relief throughout my body. His hands move fast but delicately. Blake manages to free me from the chair.
I notice him pausing and find the strength to open my eyes. He stares at my bloody face and moves his gaze down to my knee.
"What?" I manage to croak before choking on my blood.
He wipes the blood running down from my chin.
"It may be shattered," He says softly, "your knee."
I press my hand against my forehead and try to endure the terrible headache coming on. I feel him lift me from the chair and carry me out of the room. I hear him talk to some people, but I don't pay attention. He holds me tightly against his chest, and I feel safe knowing I'm with him. Eventually, I allow myself to sleep.
———————————————————————
"Try to stay with me, Brynne. Just a little while longer."
My back arches as I wince in pain. We are in some sort of warehouse in the middle of nowhere.
I know this because it took us around four hours to get here. Of which half of the time, I was going in and out of consciousness. I cough up blood, and Blake turns me to the side. He rubs my back as I groan from the pain all over my body. My eyes begin to close, but he taps my cheek.
"Come on, don't leave me," He pleads.
My head starts spinning. Blake suddenly multiplies into three, and I feel like I'm floating. I feel him grab my face, but it's no use. The world has closed around me.
