Chapter 146 - ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY SIX

Chapter 146: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY SIX

ANGEL

I nodded obediently, dropping my gaze to the floor like a scolded child. "Yes. Thank you."

She turned to grab something from the cabinet, muttering something under her breath about stupid girls and their stupid problems.

Her back was to me. Just for a second.

The vase sat on the bedside table. Heavy ceramic. White lilies spilling out of it like a funeral arrangement. Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it? A funeral for my baby.

Not if I could help it.

Don’t think. Move. Now!

I grabbed the vase with both hands. It was heavier than I expected, water sloshing over the rim and splashing onto my fingers.

"What are you—" She turned too late.

I swung it at her head with everything I had. Every ounce of rage and fear and desperation behind the blow.

The impact was sickening. A wet crack that vibrated up my arms and into my shoulders. She let out a shriek—high and sharp—staggering sideways into the cabinet.

But she didn’t go down. Tough bitch. She spun around to face me again, her eyes wide with shock and fury, blood already streaming down the side of her face in a dark red river.

"You little bitch—"

I swung again.

This time she raised her arm to block, and the vase shattered against her forearm. Ceramic exploded everywhere—water and lilies scattered across the floor. She screamed in pain, louder this time, and stumbled backward into the wall.

I didn’t give her time to recover. I grabbed the largest shard of ceramic from the floor—sharp enough to slice through skin, heavy enough to do real damage—and lunged at her, jamming it against her throat.

"Don’t," I breathed, pressing the edge into her skin until I saw a bead of blood well up. "Don’t fucking move."

She froze. Blood dripped down her face. Her eyes were huge now—wide and white-rimmed—all that contempt replaced with pure, animal fear.

I nearly scoffed, where did all her courage go?

"Girls like me," I pressed the shard harder against her skin. Not enough to kill. Just enough to make her understand. "We’re not all the same. Some of us—" I sneered at her terrified face, "—are fucking dangerous."

"Please—" she whispered, her voice ragged in terror.

"That’s what I said." I shoved the ceramic even deeper, more blood welled, "When he dragged me here and told me what he was going to do. Please. But you didn’t care, did you? I was just another dumb slut who couldn’t keep her legs closed."

"I’m sorry, I didn’t—"

"You’re right about one thing, though." I pulled back the shard and slammed the heel of my hand into her temple with every ounce of strength I had left.

Her eyes rolled back, showing nothing but white. Then her body went limp, sliding down the wall and crumpling to the floor in a heap.

I stood over her, breathing hard, my hand throbbing from the impact.

"I am here to clean up a mess," I said to her unconscious body. "Just not the one you were thinking of."

With these words, I ran.

Outside the private ward, the corridor stretched ahead. Long, white and gleaming. My bare feet slapped against polished floors, my paper gown flapping behind me.

There was no staff. When we’d come in, there had been two doctors, male and female, and that bitchy nurse. Where were they? One was with Damien, I presumed, and the other had conducted the test. Right now, she was probably setting up the instruments for the procedure.

The instruments they were going to use to kill my baby.

My heart thumped with fear that chilled my bones, but I forced my legs to move faster.

If only I could get outside. Find a car. Find a phone.

Emergency exit. There had to be one. Every building had them, it was the law—

Locked.

I slammed into the door and it didn’t move. A keypad blinked red, demanding a code I didn’t have.

No. This couldn’t be happening!

I spun and started trying other doors. Yanking handles, throwing my weight against them desperately.

Supply closet. Locked.

Empty office. No phone. No window. Examination room. Useless equipment I didn’t know how to use.

Every door. Every handle. Every desperate hope—crushed.

Then I heard it.

Footsteps.

Slow.

One step.

Two.

Three.

Even without seeing him, I knew that stride. It was the certain way a prey knows the sound of a predator’s approach. A fearful sob tangled in my throat. My body was already trembling all the way to my chattering teeth.

That was when he spoke.

"One."

Damien’s voice, echoing down the corridor.

"Two, baby girl, where are you?" He called out.

Everything in me went numb with terror.

He was counting. I knew why he was counting. We’d played this game before, back at the house. I didn’t want to play. I hated his games. He was counting my steps. And letting me know there would be punishment for every single one I’d dared to run from him.

"Three."

I ran. Again.

Not toward anything—there was nothing to run toward. Just away. Away from that voice. From those footsteps and the monster hunting me through these sterile white halls.

"Four. Five."

I’m scared.

So scared. Tears were already streaming down my face, blurring my vision, and I could barely see anything in front of me.

"SIX!"

His voice bounced off the walls, coming from everywhere at once. Behind me. Ahead of me. Inside my own skull. I couldn’t tell where he was or where he was going.

"I have to admit, baby girl, I’m impressed." He called out, sounding delighted. "Bashing Nurse Kelly over the head like that. My sweet little Angel, cracking skulls. Didn’t know you had it in you."

A door creaked open somewhere behind me and my heart stopped dead in my chest.

"Oops. Empty." His soft laugh spread goosebumps across my skin. "But I’m getting warmer, aren’t I? I can feel it. Can feel you close, baby girl. Your fear is like a drug."