Page 6 of Beautifully Wounded

The uncertainty in JD’s tone is what has me moving back out of the room, my eyes latching onto him as I enter the hall, watching as he stares into the now open door of the bedroom.

“What?” I snap, but he just points and steps aside so I can see for myself.

As I step into the open doorway, it takes me a moment to make out what I’m seeing.

The room beyond is pale pink, the furniture white… well, what’s left of it. Most of it has been trashed, except for the bed.

There’s a small trash can on its side, with what looks like a puddle of vomit spilling out. The glass in the window is shattered with shards of glass everywhere, and a security shutter is all the way down, keeping the outside world out… or the inside of this house in.

These aren’t the things that keep my feet glued in place, though.

It’s the girl standing in the corner by the window, her baggy white t-shirt torn at the shoulder and stained in blood, as too are her arms. Her cheeks have smears of the thick crimson too, and her blonde hair is tinted red at the ends, making her look like something from a horror film.

If it weren’t for those big brown doe eyes, I wouldn’t know it’s the same girl from the portrait in the hall. She was neat. Proper. Innocent. But this girl, with her chest heaving, her head tilted down, so she peers at me through her dark lashes, and her hand wrapped firmly around a large, and very deadly shard of glass, as droplets of blood drip from her hand onto the carpet below, I have to wonder if this girl is someone else?

“Abbey?”

My voice is raspier than usual, deep and demanding, and it causes the girl to flinch and take a step back.

“Are you Abbey?” I ask, and her top lip curls as she bares her teeth.

“You can’t force me to marry that monster. I won’t do it!” Her last words come out as a piercing scream before she lifts the shard out in front of her. “I’ll kill you! I won’t let you take me to him!”

Fucking hell.

I want to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she’s not a fucking nut job given the sight of her. Surely, it’s her environment that has pushed her over the fucking edge, and the locks on the door weren’t actually there to keep the world safe from her.

“Sarg?” JD questions from behind me, and I turn back and shrug.

“The job is to take her, so I’m taking her.” Then I turn back to the girl and step into the room.

3

He’s coming for me. Oh my god. What do I do? Why isn’t he scared of me? I look like a crazy woman. Surely, he should be running.

As the hulking man stalks into my room, tall and looming, his black mask and clothes remind me of lethal mercenaries from movies, sending a chill down my spine.

Why would my parents send this man in to take me to Daniel?

Are they scared of me?

Are there cameras in here and they saw me paint myself in my own blood, so they called in reinforcements?

My gaze darts around my room, looking for said cameras, but it’s too late. The man is closing in.

“Put the shard down,” he demands, and hell, I almost drop it. Not from fear, though. More like the tone in his voice has some sort of control over me.

“N-no.” I shake my head, holding the shard out further, readying myself to stab him if he gets any closer.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Drop it.”

Again, I shake my head but freeze when a second man steps into the room.

“Right behind you, Sarg,” he calls, and shit. I can’t take on two of them.

“P-please. D-don’t.” I start sobbing, desperate to get free. Why won’t they just let me go?

“We’re not here to hurt you. Just put down the glass,” the first man orders, his hands held up in front of him as if he’s trying to calm a beast.

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