Page 1 of Saved By Two

ChapterOne

JESSICA

I wrap my arms across my chest but can’t stop the shivers that rattle through my body. The rain isn’t helping, pelting me like sharp drops of stinging ice. And this oversized hoodie is doing nothing to keep my extremities warm.

There was no time to think of what to wear as I stuffed a bag full of essentials; my purse, a toiletry bag, sentimental items, a change of clothes and some underwear. That's all I have in my possession.

I blow out a breath, causing a cloud of mist and immediately wish I hadn’t. The pain in my ribs hurts with every exhale and inhale.

Of course, the first place I tried was my brother, but I’ve not heard from him in months, which is worrying, and when I told Curtis I was worried, he told me to stop bitching.

I left countless voicemails and sent text messages, but they’re all left on read.

He’s the only family I have, well, the only family that matters, and I have no idea where he is or if he’s all right.

And now I’m hiding in some bushes, scoping out the row of beautiful townhouses to see if I can remember which house belongs to his friends, Caleb and Noah.

I’ve only met them once when they arranged a surprise party for him. He told me he trusted them explicitly and that if I ever needed anything, I could go to them. He always sang their praises, which coming from Mason, means a lot if he holds someone in such high esteem.

So here I am.

One of my eyes is now swollen shut, my head is pounding, and there’s a heavy pulsing in my ears. Bile rises in my throat, but I force myself to swallow it back down. The thought of throwing up with how my ribs already hurt makes my breathing harsh as I tremble even more.

It’s now or never.

I’m sure it’s the one with the old-fashioned streetlight directly across from the townhouse, with the iron-wrought fence and those iconic stone pillars.

I take a slow step and look both ways before crossing the street, but I have to grab the railing for support to make my way up the small steps.

Pressing the doorbell, I shift uncomfortably on my feet. I can’t even feel my toes. Staring down, it’s only now I realise why. I’m still wearing my slippers. Not that anyone noticed, or if they did, I was too busy and desperate to get away to pay attention, but in somewhere like London, it’s easy to disappear in the shadows and throngs of people on nights out. It’s late and dark, which also seems to be in my favour.

I was only wearing a thin cotton t-shirt and bed shorts right before he lost his shit…

The door opens, and I’m temporarily shrouded in light before a dark shadow forms a silhouette in the entryway.

“That was quick,” says a deep voice with an Irish lilt, and I know without even seeing his face that it’s Caleb. He steps forward as I look up through the hood surrounding my face. “Sorry, I thought you were the delivery guy,” he says, but the smile on his face falls, and if I look as bad as I feel, there’s no surprise as to why.

Swaying on my feet, I feel lightheaded, like I might pass out, but he grabs the top of my arm, causing me to flinch and simultaneously let out a strangled cry.

“What the actual fuck? Are you okay?”

I try to answer, but I’m running on empty. Everything around me spins, making me nauseous and dizzy—black spots clouding my vision.

“Need help.” My words sound cracked and croaky, slurred even, my windpipe hurting from the hands I once trusted holding my throat in a chokehold.

And then I’m falling, my entire body tense, expecting to connect with the concrete tiles beneath my feet, but then I’m floating, spinning, suddenly as light as air. It takes me a few moments before I realise Caleb caught me. His strong arms picked me up and are now cradling me to his solid chest.

“Shit, Noah,” he booms.

I try to pry my good eye open or lift my hand, try anything, but my body is refusing to work; it’s finally had enough, shutting down. Any energy reserves I might have had are well and truly diminished.

“What the hell?” another male voice says. I know it must be Noah. His voice reminds me so much of Tom Hardy. “Fuck, is that Mason’s sister, Jessica?”

I feel a cool hand against my cheek, a whimper escapes me, and I know I flinch, my body’s natural reaction to physical contact, even now.

“Sorry, sweetheart, can you hear me?”

I take in a deep breath. One I need in preparation to try to form an answer, but the action causes my ribs to groan in protest like heavy splinters.

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