Monitored (The White Coat Series Book 3) (13 page)

“I’m not here for your shit. I’m here to teach your jackass brother a lesson. He’s the reason I lost my brother. I’m the reason he’ll lose his sister.” Her words felt like sharp knives twisting into me, pointing out my soon demise while still maintaining a sick level of pleasure. She trailed a long nailed finger across my shoulder blades as she made her way around me, stopping right in front of me.

My bedroom light was on, an oriental lamp that took up most of the corner and cast a frightening shadow on the intruder. I could see her eyes though and I immediately knew she was on something. Her pupils were way too dilated and her movements were way too jittery for her to not be on a substance.

I was grateful though, because it meant that she couldn’t see my fingers working through even more of the rope.

One more tug and… done.

The rope fell limp into my grip as I held it all tight, still keeping my hands behind me, not wanting to tip her off to the fact that I was free. I needed to find just the right moment to strike. I needed to catch her off her guard, that way I risked less to myself and had more of a chance of knocking her out cold.

“My brother didn’t do it.” I tried defending my brother, but I could tell I just sounded weak. Honestly, even though I had the potential of surprise, I was still scared shitless. This girl made it no secret that she was ready to end me, just to teach my brother a lesson.
 

I took a deep breath and tried not to cry.

“Oh please. We all know your brother did it. Along with his dumb bitch, that stupid blonde slut that follows him around like a dumb puppy.” Her words were laced with venom, showing even another layer of anger underneath her already lethal exterior. Things were suddenly falling into place.

“You loved him.” My words sent her reeling. Her face twitched, her neck flexed.
 

“We loved each other.” I cocked an eyebrow, almost by instinct, and immediately regretted the decision. She noticed my instant doubt and reared her open palm back, bringing it swinging forward and landing a cracking slap across my cheek. I spit out a glob of saliva with what I thought was blood.

“You’ll see. You’ll see it when he chooses me over you and the other dumb bitch. He’ll realize what we have and he’ll come with me.” Her lack of connection with what was the truth was what was the most frightening thing in the whole situation. Someone that disconnected from reality had no concept of actual consequences. Like the consequences that came from killing someone.

“You know, I was a nurse. I had gotten to fucking nursing school, as hard as that shit was, and I made it out alive. I did it for your brother, Sky. You know that? I thought the only way I could get his attention was by being smart and saving lives like he was going to be doing. So I pushed. I pushed so hard, Sky. I kept myself in check and I focused on Jason from afar, knowing that our paths would collide together in a magical explosion as soon as I finished school.” Her eyes flashed, a firecracker of anger going off behind them. “Then he met Courtney. She took him from me and then they took my brother, the only one I had left.”

I just nodded, hoping to appease her and not really knowing what to say.

“So it was you then.”

“What are you talking about?” She put a hand on her hip and let her head tilt slightly to the left. “Me what?”

“The one who knocked on my door. You were going to attack me the other day weren’t you.” She looked at me, genuine confusion registering on her face and throwing me off even more. I had assumed the knock was her, scouting me out and most likely ready to kidnap me if it wasn’t for Rachel. But, it seemed as if she really had no idea what I was talking about.

“I’m not fucking dumb, I’m not going to knock on your door and expect you to answer like I was delivering a fucking pizza.”

Well, that was weird. Then who had decided last minute to abort their plan?

Whoever it was, I couldn’t dwell on it for too long. The intruder was beginning to execute the next part of her plan. I watched her as she rummaged through my purse and pulled out my phone, opening it and typing away a message. I didn’t see what she was saying, nor did I want to ask. Instead, I saw the perfect opening. Now that she was distracted with my phone, I could try and take her out.

I swung my arms around and balled one hand into a fist, catching her right on the edge of her jaw and sending her twirling backwards. I didn’t immediately feel the stinging pain that was trying to run through my hand. I ran towards the door, intending on running out.
 

“Help! Someone help me!” I desperately hoped my downstairs neighbor was home, but I faintly remember the landlady telling me he regularly traveled for his job. My only hope was reaching the door.
 

My hope was dashed when a nimble hand tangled itself in the back of my hair and tugged down with surprising force. I wasn’t expecting the pull, causing my lower body to continue running and my upper body to fall back into the girl. My ass slammed down on the floor hard as the woman balled up her fist and twirled around so that she was on top of me, her fingers still painfully pulling at all the hair in her hand.
 

“Don’t you even think about it.” She spat into my face as her knee came down on my thigh, pinning me to the floor. “Jason and his little piggy are on their way here now. We don’t want them to see us like this, do we?” She stared at me, her eyes boring holes into mine. I tried to search of a speck of humanity, something I could latch onto and plead for my life with, but I didn’t see anything.
 

I went limp, my body having enough of the trauma. I don’t want to say I gave up, but I was damn close.
 

She pulled me up, her grip still twisted in my hair, and dragged me to the chair. She threw me forward, tossing my into the chair, face first. It hurt, the blow of the hardwood on my body, which was resembling more of a rag doll at this point. She maneuvered me around and picked up the rope off the floor, this time, she paid particular attention to her tieing skills. I could feel my circulation start getting cut off with how tight she was making the knots this time around.
 

A crash came from the front door and I saw my rescue team as they barged in, Jason and Courtney both looking in shock at me tied up with an enraged bitch itching to kill me.

It mostly went by in a blur, but I do distinctly remember seeing Courtney make the final blow, knocking Ally out. It gave us all a moment to breath, finally catching up to where our hearts were racing. I was the first to call the police, just happy that Jason had come in time.

With the cops gone and the threat of Ally locked up behind bars, I could finally breath again, even though breathing hurt me. I knew I needed to get to the hospital and have a doctor look me over. I was suddenly beginning to feel a deep sense of despair in the pit of my stomach. Something didn’t feel right, and that something was punctuated by a sudden cramp that did nothing to reassure me.

I feared the worst.

“SKY SILVERS,” THE NURSE SAID, calling me out of the waiting room and into an examination room. We walked into the pale yellow room and I took my seat on the all too familiar plastic covered bed. She asked me the normal questions (yes I was pregnant, yes I had protected sex, yes it didn’t work, no I don’t have S.T.I.s) and checked my vital signs, noting that my blood pressure and heart rate were abnormally high, which naturally made them go even higher as my nerves began to kick in.

“How long have you been pregnant?” the nurse asked, putting on latex gloves and drawing a blood sample. It seemed painless, especially compared to everything I had endured the past few days.
 

“It’s been two weeks now.” She nodded, both of us acknowledging that my body had endured way too much, way too early. A part of me desperately began hoping that we were both wrong and that everything was just fine. But another part of me, the stronger one, was preparing for the worst.
 

Cheryl, at least that was the name embroidered on her bright pink scrub top, pursed her thin lips with a sense of compassion, her tight, blonde curls getting picked up by the air conditioning.
 

“I just don’t have a good feeling about this,” I said, unable to stifle a weak sounding sob. My hand flew up to cover my mouth, a futile attempt to try and hide the other cries from coming out. Cheryl reached out and placed and empathic touch on my knee, her thumb making circles.

“I’m going to walk this to the lab myself and make sure they get this done. Hang tight, I’ll be back in a little bit.” She rubbed me knee one more time, like she was trying to coax a genie out and steal a wish to use on me. I nodded in a weak sign of courage and tried extra hard not to break down until she was out and the door was closed behind her

Then I broke down.

I broke down some more when the nurse came back with the result, her eyes heavy with emotion.

Negative.

****

I sat in my apartment for the rest of the day, and the day after that and the day after that as well. I only took three calls, one from Alexander, one from Connor, and one from my mom. Each time I answered, I quickly reassured them that I was still alive and then hung up.
 

I needed to be alone. I needed to process everything I had been through so that I could move on to the next chapter in my life. It was something I used to do ever since I was a kid. Suck myself back into a cave of seclusion and self-doubt, second-guessing all my past decisions and driving myself crazy with what-if scenarios. What if I just stayed sitting in that chair? What if Rachel wasn’t over my house that one night? What if Jason didn’t come when he did? What if, what if, what fucking if?

I felt myself change. Bitter. Like an apple left out in the sun too long, even my skin felt like it was transforming. I recognized this too, especially when I talked to the ones who loved me, the ones who were trying to reach out to me and make sure I was doing ok. They wanted to offer their love and support and I just wanted to be left alone.

After a while, even my own company was starting to drive me crazy. It was a rare, rainy day in Los Angeles when I decided to finally step out of my apartment. I had googled therapists in the area and found one specializing in young adults like me and decided that I needed to go, rain or shine. So I went and I met with Ms. Alisha Enders, a woman with the voice of a babbling brook. She could put anyone at ease with her song-like drawl and resonating speech, her words staying neutral yet bringing out some heavy emotional baggage.

She helped me process everything that had happened. She helped me tackle the anger and guilt that would swell up within me and then get quelled by a deep depression intermixed with an intense fear. I was a wreck before I went to see Alisha, but afterwards, I would always feel a little bit stronger. Just that much more put together. My head was held a little higher than I had become accustomed to, and I no longer had the strong urge to sleep my day away. I actually found enough motivation to go and do some light grocery shopping, filling up my barren refrigerator with some bare necessities and guilty pleasures, mainly consisting of a box of creamy ice cream sandwiches. Connor and Rachel noticed it too, especially now that I was talking to them more.

It was after a very good session that I decided to text Alexander. We had talked sporadically, mainly because I had become bad at replying to his previous text messages, but now I was beginning to find the fight in me again.
 

ME

I’m sorry I’ve been flakey lately. Meet me tonight and I’ll explain everything?

I took a deep breath and pressed send. I wasn’t sure if he was upset at me or not, but I did what I had to do for myself and it was only now that I felt strong enough to meet with him. If it had been any sooner than I would have just been a disaster. Even now, I still felt a tiny bit emotional, but it was nothing I could handle by myself in a warm shower.
 

Showers were the best places to have some good cries.

My phone buzzed back in my hand, much sooner than I had thought.
 

ALEXANDER

Sure. My place or yours?

I looked around and noticed my sweatpants draped over my kitchen counter.

ME

Your’s sounds good.

I put the phone down and waited now. It wasn’t long before I heard a knock from the door. I slipped on my memory foam slippers and shuffled to the door, opening it up for Connor, standing there in a sweaty basketball t-shirt and gym shorts. He had told me he was coming over today whether I liked it or not, I just didn’t think his conditions wouldn’t have included a shower.

He hugged me anyway. I smiled and then cried into his sweaty shoulder, finally unleashing the torrential amount of tears that had been threatening to take me over. Having Con there made me finally feel like things were going to be ok. My therapist was thankfully able to steer me away from the world is over thought track, but that didn’t mean I was totally healed. I knew that I probably would never be fully healed.
 

But this was a step.

My brother steered me back into my apartment and helped me onto the couch. I just looked at him, my lower lip twitching uncontrollably. His eyes were moist with tears of their own, but he managed to stay strong. I could always count on him to be the strong one. Growing up, it was Connor who pushed the bullies off my huge backpack. He was the one who made sure that I would look on the bright side even though I had failed a huge midterm. I always thought it was because he was just complacent with his achievements, that maybe he didn’t have the same aspirations as I did and so my problems never really affected him. But now I knew it was because that’s who Connor was, someone who always looked towards the bright side in the face of adversity and managed to come out the other side unscathed and happy.

Seriously, my brother was almost always happy.

And that was his secret.