27. Lia
Chapter twenty-seven
Lia
My bedroom door flies open so hard it hits the wall. I let out a shriek so loud it makes my ears ring, but as soon as I’ve done that, my energy fades, and I just slump in the bed, panting. The fever is back, and my whole body is burning up.
“See, Doctor, see. I told you. My poor, beautiful daughter is sick. You have to do something.”
I peer at my mother, horror washing through me. Even my tight hold on the quilt doesn’t make her vanish. No, no, no. This isn’t right.
Where are the pack? Are they okay?
I pant and squirm as pain slices into my stomach. When it eases, I force myself to sit up and see my mother talking to a thin man with huge glasses and tufts of dark hair. He’s pasty and looks sick, but he’s wearing a shirt and jacket and has a doctor’s bag.
Panic pushes the pain back.
No, no. What is she doing here? What has she done? Who is he?
“I want you to put her in a private hospital.”
The words sink in and terrify me worse than anything else. If she gets me locked up somewhere, I’ll never get out.
“I have to examine her,” the doctor says with authority.
Oh, how I wish those words weren’t filled with that arrogant confidence. But it would seem the latest doctor my mother has found is a spineless puppet. And he’s already decided, and this is just an act. He’s going to be her ‘yes man’. She’s finally found someone she can bully into saying there’s something wrong with me .
My mother nods. “Of course.” She turns to the bedroom door. “Jasper, Simon, get in here and restrain her. We don’t want her to hurt herself.”
I struggle up, but the pain starts again, and through tears, I spot the two men come into the room.
“Don’t touch me!” I shriek. “Stay away!”
“This is for your own good, Lia. You’re a sick girl. A very sick girl.”
“I’m not sick!” I shout at her. With a groan, I push myself up, trying to stand, but I collapse. Instead, I scream the words. Louder than I ever have, over and over.
My mother shakes her head. “You’re sick.” Her tone is so pitying, and really, right now, with this fever, I can’t even deny it.
I finally look at the two men sent to hold me down and notice the blank, hungry stares and the way they inhale deeply. They barely seem human to me, just a giant, threatening presence.
A different kind of fear wells up from deep inside me. They are huge. I can’t get away, there’s no way I can fight them off, they have muscles on muscles, and I’m fever weak. There’s nothing I can do except pray for the pack to arrive.
Still, when the pale one reaches for me with a hungry sneer, I kick out as hard as I can. My foot collides with his face. He grunts but grips my ankle and yanks hard.
I’m pulled halfway down the bed, my t-shirt riding up and revealing my soaked underwear. I scream louder, terrified at what’s going to happen.
My mother lets out a sob but stands there in the corner observing everything.
I thrash, trying to get free, but the second one grips my arms, pulling them above my head. They are threats, but they aren’t the threat. I focus on the smaller man as he pulls out instruments and lays them on my side table.
The doctor approaches me. His hand trembles a little, but the same hungry look invades his expression. He sits beside me and strokes my stomach.
My skin shivers under his touch as I try to get away from him, but I can’t move enough. The two men holding me down have me stretched tight. My wrists ache where they are squeezing, and my ankles are held spread apart. I try my best to ignore my underwear and what they can see.
“My name is Doctor Rossenburg, and I’m going to examine you, Lia. You’re a very sick young woman, and it’s a good thing your mother got you help. But it’s over now. We can fix you.”
I sob but don’t bother protesting.
He runs his hands all over my body, feeling everywhere .
I’m terrified and disgusted, and my mind is slipping into a dark place. Partly because I don’t want to be touched, but even more so because I’m terrified that the spikes of heat I feel might flare up, and I might respond to his caress.
I turn my head and stare at my mother. Silently begging her to save me. She stares back, sniffing occasionally. Her head held high, her nose in the air.
“Mama, please.”
She never answers me, just watches. There is no mercy. No kindness.
The doctor reaches for my underwear. He pauses and looks at my mother. “I just need a swab.”
For the first time, I see my mother hesitate, but then she nods her head, giving them permission.
I let out a scream then. I scream and scream, I thrash, I fight. Agony tears me apart at the thought of them touching me. I do everything in my power, even when a hand is put over my mouth, I don’t stop screaming.
He gets his swab quickly. Maybe he’s nervous about all my screams, but he doesn’t mess around down there. Dr Rossenburg packs up his bag, standing up from the bed, not even bothering to hide how aroused he is.
I hate him. I want him dead.
“She will most certainly have to come back to the clinic for an extended stay. She is a very sick young beta.”
I shake my head, but I can barely manage that. One of the guys lifts me into his arms and stands there.
I watch in numb betrayal as my mother nods.
“Of course, Doctor Rossenburg. It is exactly as I feared. I knew it. I knew she was sick.”
“She is very sick,” he confirms, bobbing his head and swallowing hard.
I feel so weak. My head is floating.
“I’m not sick,” I whisper.
“I’m so thankful, Doctor.” My mother croons at him and leans in to kiss the doctor. He responds to her eagerly, but she pulls back, wiping her lipstick from his lips. I watch from far away. It all makes sense now. I’m not surprised.
“Let's get her settled in, and then we can go out and celebrate.”
A tiny sob escapes me, and the guy, the pale one, holds me tighter to his chest. His erection presses against the side of my butt, and he discreetly rubs against me when no one is watching.
In the hallway, I find Arnold waiting. He looks up at me and frowns as he looks me over. Something unhappy sits in his gaze, and he looks down, pulls out his phone, and fires off a text. It’s so quick no one but me sees it.
I barely pay attention to him. Instead, I focus on my mother’s assistant. She is white, almost grey, her eyes huge and watery. She looks at me with so much pity that I feel vindicated.
“Help?”
She snaps her mouth shut and averts her eyes.
“Move, Janice, we have work to do. You’ll need to organise the cleaners to come in and get rid of that smell. I don’t know what she was cooking, but I hate it.”
Janice glances at me, and I can see on her face she knows the scent is me.
“Mother, please,” I try again. “I’m not sick.”
“You clearly are, young lady. I knew leaving you alone for so long was a terrible idea. Gallivanting around with those men. Whoring yourself out to them, too, I have no doubt.”
“Mama,” I whisper.
“I knew you were the reason Andy left me.”
I’m so stunned that I just stare at her.
“You can’t think that, it’s sick!” I shout at her. “He would never. He loved you!”
She stomps over to me and belts me across the face. “You’re a sick little whore, but I’m going to take you to a place where you can be better. Where you can’t embarrass me.”
She turns on her heel, her long hair fanning out behind her and leads the way downstairs.
“Right,” I whisper. “She wants me out of sight. Where people can forget I exist.”
Another guy comes into the house. “Excuse me, ma’am, but we’re going to need to wait for another car. All four tires have been cut.”
My heart leaps. “You’re fucked now,” I tell the man holding me. “You’re all muscles, but they will cut you to ribbons. No one will find you.”
I let out a shrill shriek when my hair is yanked back.
“Shut up! Enough of these sick lies,” my mother hisses. “No one wants you. You are a devious little beta who steals, lies, and ruins lives. You are sick. I should have known you were just pretending when you were little. You’re a snake in a betas clothing. But your true colours are coming out now.”
I stare at my mother like I’ve never seen her before. What is wrong with her?
“Given up pretending you care, Mother?” I snarl back into her face. The body guards are near the sofas. My mother is in the center of the room, light from the open window bathing her. She looks smug and evil. Like a villain in a kids’ movie. Has she always been this ugly?
She doesn’t look like all those photos. The pop princess herself; China Raines. She’s a monster, and now the rest of the world can see, too .
“I’m not sick,” I whisper, staring at her and knowing that whatever I had with her is gone.
My mother is gone.
She turns that cold, furious glare on me. “I’m your mother. I know you’re sick. I say you’re sick.”
I shake my head in protest.
She steps towards me and hits me again. I stand still, even when I see her raise her hand a second time. Her strike sends my left cheek numb, but it tears open a wound in my soul.
She hits me again. And again.
Until the doctor is forced to pull her off. He drags her to the corner of the room and whispers to her there.
I wrap my arms around myself, refusing to look at any of them. They are all complicit.
They are all guilty.
And when they come…their bodies will feed the flowers.
I close my eyes and tilt my head up, trying to find courage and listening in delight to the telltale sound of my MC returning. It sounds like hope and freedom.
The sound of bikes roaring up the road makes me smile.
Time’s up.
My mother starts to scream at me, finally losing her cool. But it doesn’t matter because I hear the roar of the MC.