Soulmate (Cameron Dallas/ Nash Grier/ Matthew Espinosa/ Hayes Grier)

Chapter 79

I don't know why I've been getting so bad at updating, I'm sorry :(
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"Kat." I hear, almost like a faint whisper.

So soft that it could be mistaken as an angel's voice from above, ready to come and take me away from this Hell I'm living. And when I hear it again, my heart leaps at the thought of taking my last breath as my body slouches down in defeat. I'll stare down at my hunched body as I float upward to my salvation; to my pain-free world. To a world where parents adore their children and you're allowed to love whoever you want, and where everyone is nice to each other. A world that is the exact opposite of this one.

"Kat."

My necklace dangles from my bruised neck, my long hair obstructing my vision. I weakly lift my head up, blinking my eyes repeatedly until a figure that looks somewhat like my brother appears.

"You have to stay awake," the figure says.

But I'm so tired.

My head falls down again, but I oblige to my brother's demands. A pool of red drowns my feet, and I would scream if I had the energy to. I look at my exposed stomach and locate the source; a deep gash across my skin. I whimper, the rope scratching my wrists as I try to pull myself up. But I'm too weak to move, so I don't. I just hang there, staring at my reflection in the scarlet red, wondering if it's really there or not.

"Kat, please stay awake."

I hadn't even realized I'd closed my eyes. I look at him from across the room, taking in his condition. His worry for me surpasses the gash across his cheek and the black eye he possesses. His shirt is now off, welts and bruises scattered across his back and arms. His eyes are bloodshot, and there's red under his fingernails.

I open my mouth the best I can against the tape and exhale hot air against it, causing it to moisten. Once it's loose enough, I scrunch my mouth until it falls to the floor, allowing me to breathe properly.

"Wha...What time is it?" I ask him, licking my dry lips.

I'm so thirsty.

"Late afternoon," he tells me.

My eyes widen a bit.

"What has he been... been doing all day?" I ask him.

Cameron looks away, and my heart takes what bit of energy I have left and sinks to the floor.

"I'm sorry." My voice hitches in my throat.

"I know," he says.

My eyes travel around the empty room, trying to get an inkling of what happened while I was out cold. I see a knife lying idly on the table, and when I look back at Cameron, his wrists are lined with fresh wounds. I cringe, looking away from the result of my brother's torture. Then my head snaps up with energy I didn't know I possessed, and I look to the table again.

There's a knife.

"C-Cameron," I whisper, but he doesn't hear me.

"Cam," I repeat, louder this time.

He looks at me, scooting closer.

"Get the... You have to get the knife," I tell him, motioning with my eyes.

"I can't, it's too high," he tells me, groaning as he shifts his weight to his side.

"You have to get the knife," I repeat.

He looks at me before shifting his gaze to the floor.

"Cameron," I breathe out, "I'm not gonna make it-"