Page 54 of Depravity

I yank her up. Her whimper becomes a scream of pain, but I bear it no attention. She did this. She caused this. She deserves to hurt.

I toss her onto the bed and she groans, rolling over, curling up into a foetal position.

Only, there’s a sharp, haunting sound coming from her mouth.

I pause, watching her, waiting for her to spit out more hate, more vitriol but nothing comes. She just lays there, broken and pathetic.

Maybe she really is hurt.

A flash of something hits me. Did I break her too much? Did I go too far?

I crouch down, brushing the hair from her face and I can feel how icy cold her skin is, and yet her forehead is covered in sweat like she’s burning up.

“Doll?” I murmur.

She doesn’t look at me. She just stares, with her eyes hazy and unfocused.

“Doll?” I growl again.

No response. Not even a blink.

I stand up, storming out of the room and holler for the doctor. I know the bastard is there somewhere.

He comes in, looking in far less of a hurry than I’d like. My hands ball in my pockets as I gesture over to her with my head and he pauses, staring like he expected to see something else.

He walks over, narrowing his eyes, before he opens up that bag and pulls out a stethoscope.

I don’t speak as he examines her. Though it takes everything I have not to tell him where he can and cannot put his hands.

Brynn whimpers, clearly hating his touch as much as I do.

When he’s done, he looks over at me.

“Well?” I snap.

“It’s just bruising. Bad bruising. You might have fractured a rib or two, but I suspect they’re only hairline fractures. It would be best to get her to a hospital though, to be on the safe side.”

‘Absolutely not.”

I’m not having her taken from here, from her home. Besides, the more exposure she has to the world, the more risk I have of someone realising where she is, and what I’ve done.

“She could be concussed.” He adds.

“Then I’ll get a sick bucket.” I snap. She can spend the entire night retching for all I care, but she will not be leaving here, leaving me.

He mutters under his breath, just low enough that I don’t catch it. He’s lucky I need him right now, or he’d be dead in a ditch for that insolence.

“I can give her something for the pain.” He suggests.

I shake my head. No, she won’t get that. She isn’t allowed that. She needs to feel every moment of this, to understand that this is of her making. She caused this, and she has to face the consequences.

My eyes land back on her; she’s curled up, her hands grabbing her sides like she’s trying to protect something. Only, we both know that’s not the case.

But an idea settles.

“You can give her a shot.” I say.

“A shot?” He repeats like a damn parrot.

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