Page 57 of Broken
Chapter Twenty-Six
Izzy
I can’t breathe.
The air is so dense.
Each breath I take feels like it will be the last bit of oxygen I can squeeze out of this hell.
My neck is pulsing in pain.
We aren’t moving anymore.
I should be kicking.
I should be thrashing around, trying to get attention.
I can’t move.
I have nothing left in me.
As much as I want to live I know that at this point my body is shutting down.
I’m dying.
I come to and I stay still. I don’t want them to know I’m awake.
The air is easier to breathe.
That’s when I move my hand, just slightly, enough to know it’s no longer bound to my other one.
I try my foot, lifting it slightly and realizing that it’s free also.
My fingers move against something below me.
It’s a bed.
Every muscle inside of me freezes. All of the threats from the brothers about using me again, making me their pet. They all ring in my head. It’s so loud that I can barely think. I have to fight this time. Either that or I’ll force them to kill me.
A hand trails over my cheek. I force myself not to flinch away. I can feel the bastard’s breath on my face. I decide to make my move. As quick as I can I thrust my arm toward them. My nails make contact as I drag them across skin, feeling it pull off from my force.
“Fuck!”
The voice shouts and my body wants to recoil. I force my eyes open. I will face him and I will fight.
Once I do I blink from the light and raise my hand, poised to strike once again.
A strong hand grabs my arm and I see my brother. There is blood dripping down his cheek. He’s here. I look around, seeing the familiar walls of the clubhouse. I’m home.
I throw my arms around him, groaning from the pain, but not caring about it at the moment. Tears start to fall from my eyes as I realize that I’m safe.
My shoulders shake with relief and pain.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He returns my embrace. After a few minutes, I loosen my hold on him and lie back against the pillows I was propped up on. “You scared us, sis. Glad to have you back.” He smiles at me.
I try to respond to him but nothing more than a painful rasp escapes. My fingers find my throat; it’s wrapped in something. My arms are covered in bruises. I look up at my brother in question.
“That shit they had on your neck. You have some nasty cuts from it. Doc wrapped it and said you might be hoarse and have trouble talking a lot at first.” He sits down next to me, and I see the worry etched on his face. “We almost lost you. Doc said if we hadn’t found you when he did and we didn’t immediately start CPR that there would have been nothing he could do. When I saw you there was a moment when I thought you were gone. Scared the shit out of me.”
