Page 15 of Retribution

(Faye): Thanks for the meeting, we definitely need to do it again.

(Scott): Absolutely, Faye you were great. We need to do this again.

(Scott): St. Regis Room 238.

(Faye): Looking forward to our next ‘meeting’.

(Scott): Same place next week? I’ll text you the time on the day

(Faye): Of course baby, anytime ;)

The last four texts were sent today, beginning almost immediately after he left my dressing room. The sweat begins to bead on my upper lip, the anxiety from reading a private conversation and the content of said conversation, has my pulse racing.

This must be a mistake.

But it can’t be.

Reading over the texts, for what felt like three-hundred times, the shower cuts off.

Panicking, I swipe the message to read as unread, throwing the phone back onto the dresser.

Diving onto the bed, I pull the covers around me and turn on my side.

Scott enters the bedroom in a towel, tied around his waist. He looks at me and smiles before making his way to the closet to get changed.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My face is burns with trepidation as I stare at dresser top, at the phone that’s holding so many secrets.

This has to be a misunderstanding,

This is Scott, my Scotty.

Maybe, I’m just reading it wrong?

Closing my eyes, I lay with my back flat into the pillows of our bed, hearing Scott come back into the bedroom. He turns the lights out, taking his sweet time to get into the bed. I feel it dip when he does.

The mobile phone light shines through my eyelids and does so for the hour after he assumed I was asleep.

I’m not wrong.

Chapter 5

Reed

It isn’t until the following day that I hear anything specific from a health professional.

“…Allie is currently in a medically induced coma…”

“…It’s what we advise to be best for her, based on the intense surgery on her brain and the injuries she sustained…”

“…It is the best way for her to recover, but we cannot guarantee any level of recovery. The injuries Allie suffered during her accident were very serious and, in most cases, fatal. So far, she has proved she is a fighter…”

The words I’d heard from the doctors in the past half hour were more than I can comprehend.

The air in my lungs is not enough to keep me oxygenated. Each breath I take feels sharp and unfulfilling.

Britney came to visit this morning whilst Bridget took over the care of Willow.

I know that she has her dance competition today, to which I made a promise to attend.

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