Page 50 of Unwell
Elijah flickered for a moment, younger and sweeter than Robert, and the horror at what I’d done sent a wave of fear through me.
It’s Robert, not Elijah.
With a pained groan, he hauled the needle out of his eye and tossed it into the bushes.
He staggered toward me, his bloodied hand brushing the swell of my belly like he was leaving his claim there.
Not reaching for me. He was reaching for my baby.
‘Don’t touch me,’ I threatened. The words brought a steadiness to my hands. Words I’d wanted to tell him, tell Elijah, for so many years.
‘I’ll do more than touch you. I’ll cut your fuckin’ belly open and take my kid, then let the staff see how long it takes to fill your empty uterus with our fuckin’ cum.’
I ripped the shears from my pocket and smiled up at him.
‘Goodbye, Elijah.’
I drove the blades into his neck. The steel slid through soft flesh before hitting a hardness inside. I kept pushing. Hot spray burst across my face and dripped down over me as he grasped my throat, using his meaty fingers to squeeze tight.
He gargled, choking on his blood, but I stabbed again. And again. The shears hacked and tore, my hands growing slippy and warm, his body jerkingagainst mine as his blood spilled black into the dirt. It wasn’t long before his grip on my neck loosened, his hands resting rather than cutting off my breath.
Death could be so noisy. The crunch of cartilage and the rip of skin, the bubbling rasps of his dying breaths. Everything was coated in the most vibrant shade of red. I screamed with every thrust, reclaiming everything he’d ever taken with every slice. The baby kicked frantically beneath my ribs, as if she told meKill bad daddy. I stabbed and stabbed long after he hit the floor. Stabbed until my hands ached.
When the shears slipped from my grip, Robert was half-man, half-meat. He collapsed into the mud, blood trickling weakly, his ruined throat in red ribbons. His remaining eye tipped up to the sky and stilled.
No more sounds from him. No more mean words or sweet nothings.It was done.
Only my ragged breath remained.
I dropped to my knees as fat tears escaped. Not for Robert, but for Elijah. Had he really never been with me? Or did Robert just pretend to be him sometimes? I rocked myself in the wet grass, the shears laying sticky against my leg.
‘I don’t think Elijah is coming for us,’ I whispered hoarsely while running a hand over my blood-soaked nightgown. ‘I’ll protect you. Always. I’ll protect you. It’s just you and me now.’
The copper stink clung heavy in the cold air as I looked from the broken man to my stained hands.
From deeper in the woods footsteps approached, twigs snapping.
I snatched the shears, wrapping my fingers around the wet metal and preparing to take another life if I had to. Whatever it took to save my baby.
Standing, I turned to face the noise.
There was nowhere left to run.
THIRTY
NANCY
She fled past the window in a flicker of white.
Ginny.
She tore across the grass as if escaping. But the gates were locked up tight. What was she doing? Looking for Elijah.Robert. The evening sun lit her tufted hair like a dandelion bursting with seed before the woods ate her up.
My files fell to the floor, erupting in a sea of paperwork. I let them lay. I had to catch up with her. The halls dashed past as I tore through the asylum and threw myself out the side door. My lungs burned by the time I’d reached the edge of the woods. She’d got a hell of a head start.
The woods stood tall and ominous, making meshiver. I hated going into them. Over the years, we’d found enough patients hanging there. Hell, Marney had left one up there until he’d rotted enough that his head detached from his body all by itself. The twisted branches had the last remnants of fall clinging a deathly yellow against the sky, the smell of damp earth and rot filling my lungs as I stepped into the thicket.
‘Ginny?’ The decaying foliage deadened my voice. Only the rustle of leaves answered back.
