Page 132 of Chokehold
“I’m going to get us out of here,” a voice whispers. It’s soft, calming. The person is stroking my hair, gripping my hand tight, repeatedly telling me that we’ll be okay.
The voice keeps going, saying soothing words while the hand keeps stroking. I feel like I’m in an oven one second and shaking with how cold I am the next.
When the hand vanishes, I feel something tug at my side, and I flinch all over and try to sit up, but the person pushes down on my chest to keep me still.
“I need to change your bandage. Stay still, Cole.” There’s silence, and then she whimpers. “The infection is getting worse.”
I blink my eyes open, my vision distorted. I can only see shadows, so I blink a few more times, screwing my eyes to focus.
Someone, a woman, with long hair and a warming, sad smile, stares down at me. “Don’t move. The stitches aren’t my best since I didn’t have much to work with.” She sighs, discarding the bloody bandage into the trash can beside her, then opening a saline water pack. “You need?—”
Her voice is cut off by someone coughing, their footsteps coming closer. She pales, her hands shaking as she cleansaround my wound and then pulls the bandage from its packaging.
It hurts, but I’m more focused on her face. It comes in and out of view and she has bruises on her cheek and jaw, her lip cut as if she was punched.
“How is he?”
My father comes into view, my vision still blurring, but I can see claw marks down his face. Mom put up a fight. Good. But he’ll look better six feet under.
“He needs to go to a hospital,” Mom says, her voice filled with desperation. “I can’t stop the infection.”
With a hum, he crouches down beside me, inspecting my side like he’s praising his work. “He’ll survive. Pack up. We’re leaving in an hour.”
Her eyes go wide, and she stands when my dad does. “Where?”
“I told you. The fucking unit is out looking for me. I know a guy who can make us disappear.”
“You must be more insane than I thought if you think I’m going anywhere with you. I hate?—”
She topples onto the ground with how hard my dad back-hands her, and she pants, gasping, tears springing in her eyes as she looks up at me.
I want to stand up for her like I used to. I want to get to my feet and jam my fist in his mouth and snap the motherfucker’s neck, but I’m too weak to even keep my eyes open as they fall shut again.
“He’s bleeding through the bandage,” Dad scolds her. “Clean him up and get ready to leave.”
He grabs my jaw, squeezing as he leans down to me. “I promise we’ll be a family again, son. If you stop fighting me, I’ll be proud of you. I’ll be your father, not your enemy.” He shoves my face. “Sort him out, Rachel.”
Then he’s walking out again, grabbing a gun from the table filled with tools and straddling the seat, studying the weapon.
My attention flicks back to my mom, who’s trembling as she kneels beside me, tears soaking her cheeks, her jaw rattling so much I can hear her teeth clashing together. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m sorry, Cole.”
I want to tell her not to be, but I cough instead, and it causes pain to rocket through my body like I’ve been struck by a car at high speed.
She gives me a drink of water that sputters from my mouth when I cough again. Fuck. I feel like my body is shattering with each harsh breath.
“I did what I could with what I have,” Mom says, her eyes glassy. Her lip twitches when she looks down at my wound. “Your father made me become a nurse. He wanted me to treat his abuse at home, so no one would ever be suspicious.”
I stay silent, staring at her.
A tear slides down her cheek. “I failed you. I failed you so badly, Cole. I should have run with you sooner. The moment he became aggressive, I should have packed our bags and snuck out while he was at work. When he said I should go study to be a nurse, I thought he was getting better.” She lets out a breathy, fed-up laugh. “I should have known he only wanted me trained so I could treat us at home.”
My lips flatten. I never saw it that way.
“You deserve to be happy, Cole,” she says. “You deserve a good life. If you hold on for me, I can figure a way out of this. We can get home, fix your relationship with Allie, and if you need to, we can move away. Or I can give you money for you to move away.”
Dad scoffs in the distance. “You are home. And why would he want her? He doesn’t even like pussy. Ain’t that right, son?”
My body hurts too much to pay him any attention, but he keeps going anyway. “Did you know he was fucking your stepson?” He lets out a haunting laugh that echoes around the warehouse. “Or washefuckingyou?”
