The Deal Changer (Book IV)

Chapter Twenty-Two - Her Possessive Creator

Chapter Twenty-Two

Her Possessive Creator

I DON'T KNOW HOW I GOT AWAY.

When I say I don't know, I honestly mean I do not know. I was driving like a wild woman down the road and swerving between cars and doing just about every illegal move you can while driving. But the adrenalin and possibly the blood loss and panic made me completely lose a solid hour or so of memory. It was all such a blur. The next thing I knew I was sitting in the parking lot of some gas station with my hands still gripping the steer wheel.

My fingers slowly, painfully, I removed one by one from the steering wheel and looked around me to figure out where I was and what I needed to do next. It was all so surreal, especially squinting through the sunlight. I've been so used to nighttime it was almost impossible to see in such brightness.

I felt my stomach and realized the shock of everything was beginning to wear off. It was starting to sting and grow into a fierce burn. I also realized, after moving my foot off the gas pedal, that my right ankle was sprained from the fall. I tried to assess the damage everywhere, almost scared to see if I had a branch sticking through me or if my guts were hanging out somewhere. It was difficult to see where all I was injured because of the dress I still wore that was now soaked in my blood. Thankfully, with the dress being black, no one would notice the amount of blood I was covered in. That is, if I wore a jacket to cover the large slice across the middle of the fabric. Also if I could scrub the blood off my hands.

The ringing in my ears must have prevented me from hearing the low hum coming from my bag. I reached over, one hand pressed firmly against my stomach, and dug through my bag until I found the source of the hum.

My phone.

I had grabbed so many items and stuffed into this bag, I forget I had even packed it. I didn't even have to look at the name to know it was Matthew. My thumb jabbed at the decline button and I stared at the screen in deep thought on what I needed to do now. He could be within minutes of me. He probably even knew where I was...

I pulled my hand from my stomach and looked at the blood-coated ring on my finger with wide eyes. "Oh, shit."

Matthew knew where I was right now. He had to be within minutes of me. The only advantage I had was a slight head start. But I couldn't function as I was. I knew I'd have to risk being caught if it meant I could stop the bleeding. It was a miracle I was even functioning right now. If I could stop the bleeding, I could put some distance between me and the ring.

Stepping out of the car was more difficult than I had thought it would be. The ground below almost shifted and the world spun and dimmed for a moment. I grabbed my bag and positioned it in front of my stomach to hide the wound before I tucked my hands under my arms to conceal most of the blood. If anyone stopped to look at me, they would see several fine cuts along my arms and smears of blood nearly my forearms. Not only was I risking Matthew finding me, but I was risking police and an ambulance showing up if anyone decided to report the girl with blood literally on her hands.

I struggled with the door and slid into the gas station, ducking behind the chip aisle to make my way towards the bathroom. I stopped in front of a section with simple travel items such as toothbrushes and t-shirts with the word Chicago in bold letters. I glanced behind me and saw the cashier was currently helping a customer buy lottery tickets. I grabbed several shirts and slipped into the women's bathroom, locking the heavy door behind me before checking to make sure I was alone in the bathroom. I was, to my relief.

When I faced the mirror to assess the damage, I actually jumped at my own reflection. I had lost so much blood my skin was almost bluish. I kept wondering how I was still standing when I looked like a walking corpse. My face didn't take much damage from the fall. There were a few minor cuts over my forehead, but they were somehow already beginning to heal up with only dark lines and dried blood over the areas. Gently, I reached one arm behind my back and pulled the zipper of my dress down until the dress fell onto my bare feet. I stood there in my underwear and stared at the cut across my stomach, vile rising in my throat.