Page 8 of Twisted Salvation
“H-He hurt me,” I whisper. “I didn’t do this, Dom. I p-promise. I tried to s-stop the b-bleeding. I don’t wanna die, Dom.”
“Fuck. I’m coming, okay? I’m coming as fast as I can. Where are you?”
“In the hall bath,” I mumble. “I need you, Dom.”
“I’m right here, sweetie. I promise I’m coming. Is he in the house?”
“I don’t think so,” I say weakly. “The d-door is…”
My voice trails off as I lose energy. I am so tired, and my body feels light. “Matt, call an ambulance. Now. Look at the address on my phone.”
“Who’s M-Matt?” I ask, almost whispering. “B-Boyfriend?” I hear a man laugh, and it makes me smile.
“No, not my boyfriend, silly girl. My best friend and his wife are with me. Natalie is a doctor. Okay?”
“I’m glad you have friends,” I say, relaxing into the blood-covered towel. “You were my only friend.”
“I’m still here, Myra. I need you to hang in there, okay? I’m close. I need you to keep talking to me,” he urges.
“I’m so tired,” I sigh. “I just want to sleep.”
“No. No sleeping. Not yet, okay? I need to hear your voice, Myra,” he says louder. I have the phone balanced on the side of my face, so I don’t have to hold it. I’m saving energy this way.
“I f-fucked up, Dom. I told him you were a man,” I force out. “He thinks I’m cheating… I don’t wanna die.”
“You’re not going to die, honey. I promise,” he says. Something in his voice changes. He sounds sad now.
“Can I tell you a secret?” I ask.
“Yes. You can tell me anything,” he says.
“I’m in love with you,” I confess. “It’s not suicide. I promise. I did…”
The phone slides off my face and hits the tile. I try to move to grab it, but I’m too tired. I can hear him screaming something at me, but I can’t focus on his words. It’s comforting to know that he is still there. I don’t want to die, but at least, for once, I won’t be alone.
The world darkens but comes back in choppy flashes. The next thing I know, there are warm hands on my face as someone cradles my body. My wrists hurt. Someone else is here.
“Dom?” I choke out.
“I’m here, Myra. I’ve got you,” Dominic says softly. I can hear tears in his voice.
“You’re here,” I sigh, relaxing in his arms.
“I’m here,” he says, gently squeezing me.
“Am I going to die?” I ask.
“No, you’re going to be okay,” he says. “We are going to get you to the hospital, and Natalie is going to stitch up your wrists.”
“Where’s your boyfriend?” I mutter. A man laughs again, and I smile. “There he is.”
“I like her,” the man chuckles.
“Where is he?” I ask.
“I don’t know. We brought you to my truck,” he says. “No cars in the driveway.”
“He tried to kill me,” I say.
