Page 84 of Slaughtered Firefly
I jumped at the sudden change of emotions.
“It’s one month, don’t worry pal. It barely makes any difference if you ask me. Why the rush?” Karter’s voice was that relaxed, laid-back tone he had used earlier.
“I’m not your pal. You don’t understand, it’s one month for you. It’s a thirty days of ‘why isn’t she bred?’ Have you everseen April Blackett angry?” With Shaw’s vein in his forehead protruding, the anger and desperation in his voice would have been funny in any other situation. But I was at his mercy.
“Nope, but then I am just a doctor for hire,” Karter’s charming smile was back. The cocky grin that knew too much.
Shaw gripped the man’s collar and punched him in the face in quick sessions. On the third punch, blood splattered on the floor. Karter didn’t even flinch, just stood there and took the beating. What kind of crazy doctor was he?
“Get out! Get the fuck out right now,” Shaw shouted.
“Sure sure,” Karter said, wiping the back of his mouth on his sleeve. The smirk never left his face. “Just remember you bill me by the hour and this has been … ” He glanced at his watch and then counted with his hand on an imaginary clock, “Three. I’ll let you keep the punches free of charge.” Karter winked at me and then moseyed out the door.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. This can’t be fucking happening, I am in so much shit.” Shaw paced back and forth.
“You sound like a guy out-t-t-t of opt-t-tions,” I chattered.
“Your one lucky son of a bitch, food poisoning from a god damn Asian dish really? Since when do you eat fucking asian food?” He kicked me in the stomach and huffed a wheeze.
“W-what’s r-really t-t-the p-p-problem?” I couldn’t stop my teeth from clicking with the coldness seeping in. “s-she w-will cy- cycle a-again,” I finished.
“You.”
“W-what?”
“You are my problem, every fucking time I get rid of you, you crop back up like a disease,” He pulled my head up by my hair and spit in my face. Barely contained rage grew in his eyes, waiting to be released. If I had anything left in my stomach, I would have gotten sick. I did not like that look. He dropped me hard against the stone. My head throbbed from the impact. Myskull felt like a blender ball in those protein drinks. The kick knocked the air out of me. I curled inward.
“Just.”
Kick.
“Fucking.”
Kick.
“Die”
Kick.
Shaw huffed, slicking his hair back, and walked out of the room. The door shut with a soft click — polite, like the bastard thought it meant something. Like manners could clean up the blood. My insides screamed. Every breath felt like a nail jabbed into my lungs. I recognized this feeling. Broken ribs. I had to sit up; I had to try to get a proper breath. Pushing hard against the concrete, I coughed, kneeling. More blood splattered across the stark grey, and I groaned.Get the fuck up. This is nothing. Stop being such a wimp.There was one thing Dad always got right: I could take the beatings.
Why didn’t I just stick to my job? Because I was an idiot and fell in love with the first woman I ever kissed. I rolled my eyes. It was taking every muscle to stay conscious, to stay kneeling. Everything hurt when I inhaled too much. I never had to deal with beatings while in such a depleted state. It was already enough to make me pass out. My knee fell sideways, and somehow I managed to get myself sitting upright, using the steel chair as a crutch.
Silence settled in, thick and cruel. I basked in it, letting it suffocate me. Punish me for failing.
There was something wrong with me, and not just my stomach from the food poisoning; it was something deep inside.I was an idiot for thinking that I had everything figured out. How did I not see that April wanted an heir? I mean, with Uncle paralyzed and Dad dead, I should have known. Part of me wished with all my might that it wouldn’t be the case. That the stingy old bitch would die, and the obsidian empire with it. But as I sat taking measured breaths thinking it over, I wished that I wouldn’t have to fuck her. Yeah, Melody was a gorgeous woman, but she wasn’t my woman. She didn’t have deep blue eyes that sucked you in like a siren. She didn’t have blonde hair that captured the sunshine in its golden waves. She wasn’t Summer. I smiled, realizing how perfect the name was for her. I couldn’t understand why Summer lied about her name, but perhaps one day I’d earn that trust. That story. I shivered against the concrete. Bumps raised on my skin as I tried to warm myself. I fucking missed her. Never did I realize that Summer had it much worse than I did. She always seemed so sure of herself, so confident in school.
God, I fucked up.
No one knew I was coming here; I was a prisoner here. A breeding mutt for April’s pleasure. I couldn’t just roll over.
Bitter tastes of bile coated my tongue; the room spun as I clutched the chair. Stomach muscles contracted and released as my body contorted until the dry heaving came to an end. Nothing came up, just the hollow echo of my gag. There was nothing left except a shell of who I was, and even still I was breaking from the inside. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, not that it mattered. Nothing mattered, not anymore. Not since Summer. I blinked back tears. Her face frozen behind my eyes — soft, warm, and impossibly far. I clung to it. My lifeline, the only thing that was keeping me alive, was her.
Silence was both my friend and enemy; it sliced a wedge inside my addled brain. It taunted me with its knowing presence, rewarded me with the self-hatred that brimmed within me.Uncomfortable with my contorted position, I shifted. I felt something familiar — cold, not bone, or plaster. The metallic, a thin comfort to my situation, a way out of the mess I created.
Sliver steel winked as I pulled it from its resting place between the layers of the cast. I turned the scalpel, marveling at the fine, sharp precision of the blade. Practically weightless and yet so deadly. Summer’s face flashed before my eyes as I drove the blade downwards.Forgive me, my love; God will not.
Mangled screams left me as I lifted the knife. The sliver no longer shone brightly—just a deep, violent red. Blood ran down my wrists, glinting in the dim light — so sure, so real. My eyes tracked the flow — quick, messy and unforgiving.
