1. The Sweet kiss of Death
THE SWEET KISS OF DEATH
“What the fuck happened?” Shaw’s voice cut through my mangled scream.
“He stabbed himself. Must have swiped the blade when I wasn’t looking.” Karter replied.
“Listen here you prick, you better hope to hell that you can save him or so help me I will kill you and anyone you’ve ever held dear.” Shaw grabbed the collar of the doctor’s shirt as he spat the words.
“I’ll do what I can to stop the bleeding but if I don’t get him to a hospital soon he’ll bleed out.” He replied.
“No hospitals.” Shaw muttered.
“Fine I have a place we could use. It’s not far.”
Karter shone a flashlight in my eyes as something cold hit my balls. A scream reverberated through my lungs before everything went black.
There’s this weird sense of being alive but also not being coherent enough for thoughts, and that was about how I felt.
I was vaguely aware of the man talking over me as he cradled me to his chest. I hadn’t the slightest idea where we were headed, but he smelled good.
I held onto that thought as the pain ripped through my body.
Summer… I am sorry. I didn’t mean to be the source of your harm.
My life was not my own. I knew it when I didn’t disappear into oblivion. When I woke up to the doctor checking my pulse and muttering about weak intervals. The cold, dark room only spiraled my thoughts as I clung to the sickness that leeched from my body.
“Stop trying to kill yourself. You failed. Three attempts and you’ve struck out. I have better things to attend to then a little boy having a meltdown.”
“Let me die and we won’t have a problem.”
“No.” He’s voice was firm, as he prepared a needle with what I could only imagine was some drug to knock me out. “Consider it an early wedding gift.”
“You’re demented if you think I am marrying that bitch.” I spat bitterly at the man.
His hand closed around my neck within seconds.
Fear caught in my throat like the air he’d stopped.
I stared defiantly into his cold, steel eyes.
Karter came inches away from my face, looking at me with some emotion I couldn’t place.
There was barely an inch between his lips and mine.
Part of me wanted to close the distance, to taste something I never thought possible.
He slapped my cheek softly and smirked, withdrawing from my space.
“I don’t particularly enjoy the three hour plane rides here. I have better things to do with my time.” He flicked the syringe, clearing the bubbles from the bottom.
“Why give me the knife in the first place then?”
“Curiosity.”
“You have some serious problems.”
“No more than you. Go ahead hate me. I am a man doing a favor for a friend. You’d be wise to respect her.”
“Fuck you.”
“Soon you’ll realize the world doesn’t revolve around you. When you decide to wake up call me.” He shoved the syringe into my arm. Relief came sharp and ugly. As long as Karter kept pumping me full of drugs, I wasn’t useful. Drugs weren’t good for babies.