28: Cards on the Table Time

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I think it's time I dedicated one of my chapters to the lovely SkyDancer. You probably found her story before you did mine because it's been on the front page since its inception, but if you haven't read it yet, shame on you. It's called Living Highschool to its Fullest. She's an amazing writer, plus she's hilarious. And I LOVE her comments. And she forgives easily...as long as you can promise her some spontaneous human combustion.

Anton caught me around the waist, pulling me to his side.

“I wish you hadn’t…immobilized me when it all began. That really hurt,” he said as we began a halting circuit around the room. My knotted muscles screamed in protest, but we slowly worked the stiffness out of them. On our third lap, he abruptly let go with one of his hands, and fished his phone back out of his pocket. Then he flashed his screen at me.

Someone with short dark hair lay in what appeared to be a bed like the one in this room, but had I.V.’s protruding from his arm. I didn’t dare hope that it was a photo of what I thought it was. He took the phone back, then typed something.

I’m going to get you out of here.

I raised my eyebrows at him. He typed something else.

But I’m coming with you.  

Chapter 28: Cards on the Table Time

Ant’s going to get me out of here. We’re leaving. He’s coming with me.

I tried to just be relieved that I wouldn’t have to figure a way out of this mess. Ant was taking on that responsibility. But the picture he’d shown me kept coming back into my head. I couldn’t stop the hope that sparked in my chest every time I remembered the picture. I didn’t dare let it take root in case it wasn’t really him. If it wasn’t him in that bed, alive, and I allowed myself to hope, then I wouldn’t survive. I couldn’t physically withstand that same blow twice. 

Ant’s going to get me out of here. We’re leaving. He’s coming with me. I tried to distract myself.

The picture intruded once again, and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching toward his phone with my mummified hands, desperate to see it again. Anton must have understood the desire behind my blundering, because he brought the picture back up. I fumbled the phone from his palm, holding it in an awkward grip between my bandaged hands.

My heart fluttered against my ribs, as I looked to Anton to confirm that the Dark haired, tanned man that lie on the bed with IV’s in his arm was indeed Abe. He locked eyes with me and gave a deliberate nod. The fluttering in my heart went wild, and my breath hitched in my throat. I flung my arms around Anton’s middle without thinking.

Ant jumped when I threw myself at him, either frightened by my sudden outburst of tears, or unsure if this emotionally jacked-up girl was going attack. Once he decided it was safe he wrapped both arms around me, cradling me while I soaked his black button up shirt with my hysterics.

“Hey there. Don’t cry. Everything will be alright Jadie-bug. It’s going to be okay,” he said as he typed yet another message in his phone.

He stabilized after a few blood transfusions. Bullet didn’t hit anything vital. They were going to write him off as a lost cause, but I convinced Boss that if we saved him, it would help win your trust.    

                I froze when I read that. Part of me was glad that Abe’s injury wouldn’t cause permanent damage, but the other part of my brain latched onto the phrase “write him off”. They were going to write him off, as in, call him a complete loss; throw him away like a piece of garbage while he was alive, until they figured out a way to use him against me. 

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