Page 19 of Hurt to Love
Were they taking her again?
I shot out of the bed and threw my bedroom door open, hurtling down the hallway towards the shrieks of terror. I didn’t care that all I was wearing was a pair of boxers. Clothes were the last thing on my mind. I tried to open her door, but whatever she’d put in front of it was keeping me out. I kicked the door until the wood started to splinter and a gap appeared that I could force myself through.
“I’m coming, I’ve got you,” I shouted, as I heard her whimpering just feet away.
When I managed to slide myself through the doorway and into her room, I saw her huddled up against the headboard of the bed, shaking and sniffling. Her wails had subsided and were now quieter sobs, and she had her arms wrapped around her knees, hugging them to her chest and rocking like a child.
“It’s okay. I think you just had a bad dream.” I went to reach out to her and she shrieked, her eyes red and bloodshot, and fixed on me like I was the devil himself.
“I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re safe now,” I said, trying to bring her out of her torment, but she shook her head and started to gasp for breath. She was having a panic attack.
“I’ll call someone. A doctor. Luca must have a list of contacts somewhere here.” I ran out of her room, feeling bad for leaving her, but not knowing what else to do.
I ran downstairs and into the living area. At the kitchen, I frantically pulled open drawers, not exactly sure what I was looking for. When I realised I was a dumbass, searching for something I’d never find, I grabbed the house phone and scrolled through the pre-programmed numbers. The only one I found was Luca’s. I knew he’d have my balls for calling so late and waking him and Chloe, but I didn’t know what else to do.
“What?” came the gruff, sleepy voice on the other end of the line.
“It’s me, Cill…”
“I know who it is, I have caller I.D,” he huffed.
“I think I need a doctor. She’s… she’s freaking out and I don’t know what to do.” I didn’t need to elaborate on whoshewas; Jackson had already filled Luca in on every detail I’d given him.
I heard some rustling and then what sounded like a door closing. “I’ll give Dr. Graham a call. She lives close by and she’s on the payroll. She’ll be able to calm her down.”
“Thank you, Luca. I owe you.”
“Yes, you do.” He put the phone down before I could say anything else, and minutes later there was a knock on the front door.
So much for my fucking holiday vibes. The change of scene didn’t mean shit. We were still locked in her hell on Earth. Together, but so alone.
“Put the trash out,would you love? They’re collecting it first thing,” Mum shouted from the kitchen, where she was busy washing up the dinner things.
I groaned, feeling totally pissed that she always asked me to do these shitty jobs and not my brother, Michael.
“Why can’t Michael do it?” I shouted back. “I’m still trying to finish typing up my thesis for Monday.” I‘d left it to the last minute, as usual. I needed to start taking university more seriously if I wanted to graduate with honours.
“He’s out,” she called. “Taken Lou to the cinema or something. Come on, sweetie. I’m elbow deep in crusty baking trays here, and if we don’t put them out now, I’ll forget about it later on.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed away from the desk in the corner of my bedroom. Then I stomped out of my room like the surly teenager I used to be, and obviously still was if my behaviour now was anything to go by.
“When’s Dad gonna be home?” I moaned as I dragged myself down the stairs, taking each step as if it were sucking me down like quicksand.
“He’s overseas for work, love. You know that. He’ll be home when he’s home.” I knew Mum felt the pressure of looking after us all and keeping the house going in Dad’s absence. Money had been tight, and he never seemed to call anymore to check up on us. Mum always glossed over it though. Kept telling us how busy he was and that he was away for the good of the family. It didn’t look too good for her, not from where I was standing.
I walked into the kitchen and picked up the two bin bags that lay next to the back door.
“Thanks, love. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she said over her shoulder, wiping the sweat from her brow with a soapy hand.
“You’d end up doing everything yourself.” I tutted. “Michael needs to start pulling his weight too.”
I turned and pushed my way through the back door then climbed down the three wobbly steps into the backyard. I expected the security light to click on, but nothing happened. The side of the house was in complete darkness. I lugged the bags towards the bins and dropped one onto the floor so I could swing the other up and into the bin. I heard a crunching noise behind me, and then the clink of a glass bottle that’d either fallen over or was rolling around in the wind. I turned around to see if there was anybody there, but there wasn’t. It was probably a neighbourhood cat, or worse still, a rat.
I dumped the first bag in and bent down to pick up the second one, and that’s when I felt it. The hand that clamped over my mouth to muffle my screams. The arms that wrapped around my body and lifted me up. There was fabric of some kind covering my mouth and throat, and the smell was sharp and acidic, like a chemical. Seconds later, my world fell into darkness.
* * *
“Where is he?”
