HeartBreaker | Book 1

A.M.

Chapter Nineteen
A.M.

I drop to my knees and slip one arm under Desirae lifting her upwards.

I almost cry from relief when I see her chest rise and fall.

She is breathing, though very shallowly.

I drag my rucksack with my free hand and I grab my sweater, wrapping it around her harsh head wound which receds from her eyebrow to her scalp.

I swing my rucksack on my shoulders and I pick Desirae up scraping my knees on the broken glass, which I only now take notice of.

I am unable to think straight, the only thing on my mind is getting her somewhere safe and somewhere she'll be looked after as soon as possible.

I walk towards her apartment entrance not taking my eyes off her. Though I see her taking very small breaths, I can't escape the fear of her dying in my arms.

I speed walk into the elevator and press the button for the second highest floor.

In the light I'm able to see the damage done to her. Her arms are covered in red and blue bruises and marks, her face, her bouncy curls, matted with dried blood.

My whole body shakes, overwhelmed by what my eyes are seeing, unable to fathom what sick person would do this to her.

The elevator dings and I waste no time in racing out, searching for the 14th door and relentlessly ringing the doorbell.

Desirae's grandmother answers the door. She looked at me puzzled then her eyes widen in shock.

She grabs Desirae out of my arms in a few simple movements and shuts the door in my face.

I stand, my face inches away from the front door of Desirae's apartment, bewildered, unable to process the many events that had just happened in a matter of seconds.

I don't know what reaction I expected from her grandmother, but this just leaves me confused.

I suppose she may be feeling panicked and distraught, but I'd imagine she'd have multiple questions at the least? But I didn't even get a gasp.

I'm left with nothing to do now except go home. A weight has been lifted off my shoulders knowing that Desirae is being looked after on the other side of this door; but one thing remains. Anger.

I jog down the stairs, trying to figure out the series of events that had just unfolded.

Who could possibly be harming Desirae? And why isn't she doing something about it?

At least I don't think she is... but why wouldn't she tell me?

And another thing, her grandmother didn't seem to have any questions when she saw her granddaughter bloodied in my arms.

I may not know a lot about family, but I know you're supposed to care for each other and something about that old lady's reaction doesn't sit well with me.

Does she know who did this? has this happened before? Does she know what's going on?

I walk into my apartment, my hands balled into fists and my nostrils flaring.

My shock in seeing Desirae the way she was has now manifested into full-fledged fury.

Fury I haven't felt in a long time; fury I only feel when someone I care for is harmed.

There are many immoral things that I am capable of, but physically harming someone weaker than I am, has never been one of them.

Is there more to Desirae than she's telling me? Doesn't she know the person who is doing this to her?

There are so many questions that I don't have answers to, so many things I can't yet wrap my mind around.

But one thing is certain, whoever that person is will fully know what I am capable of.