Chapter 10
Annabel stared out the window at the shrinking city lights when the plane took off. For a brief moment, she thought she saw 18–year–old Tristan standing in the clouds, smiling at her.
Then, a sharp pain exploded under her ribs, snapping the vision away. She bit down hard on her lip, the metallic taste of blood quickly spreading in her mouth.
“Miss, are you okay? Do you need any help?”
The man beside her lowered his magazine. He had clearly noticed the cold sweat on her forehead.
She shook her head and buried her face deeper into her scarf, which she had bought at a cheap price outside the airport restroom. It still carried the musty scent of a basement.
“I’m fine,” she said lightly. “Just feeling a little queasy from the movement.”
The man, Kenneth Holland, glanced at the odd young woman again. Something about her didn’t sit right.
She wore a tan coat that was at least one size too big. There was a faint indentation on her left ring finger, like a ring had been worn for years. Her right hand was oddly twisted.
Even in the comfortably warm 78 degrees Fahrenheit cabin, she still shivered uncontrollably.
“I’m a doctor.” Kenneth passed her a tissue, remarking, “You don’t look very well.”
When Annabel took the tissue, Kenneth noticed the bruises on her inner wrist. They were marks only caused by professional restraint.
Right then, he realized this wasn’t just an ordinary case of domestic abuse.
“Thanks,” Annabel said, clutching the tissue in her palm but not using it.
Leaving no evidence was paramount, especially now. After landing, she’d be beyond Tristan’s reach, no matter what he did.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot up from her abdomen.
Annabel’s vision blurred as warm liquid trickled from her nose. She instinctively touched it, and her fingertips came away sticky and red.
Without hesitation, Kenneth yanked off his seatbelt. “Flight attendant! We need emergency medical assistance here!”
Through her blurry vision, Annabel saw the man quickly undoing the collar of her shirt.
Strangely, at that moment, she suddenly thought of Tristan’s hands. Just last night, those same hands had undone Cassie’s buttons in the same way. She felt held up by countless hands, like a leaf drifting on a stormy sea.
She remembered the cold shock of being pushed into the pool; how the icy water filled her lungs, and the rough sack rubbed against her face.
Of course, the sharpest pain of all came from Tristan’s words-“Anyone who hurts you has to pay.”
Each word felt like a dull blade gnawing at her heart.
Right before her consciousness slipped away, she heard herself laugh hoarsely.
How ironic that those broken ribs, shattered by Tristan’s own hands, were now pressing against her lungs. He always said he would protect her from any harm, but in the end, he was the one who hurt her the most.
The cabin lights flickered overhead, and Kenneth’s shirt was soaked with sweat. This stranger in his hands was slowly slipping away, and some unexplainable instinct wouldn’t let him just stand by.
A flight attendant whispered, “Sir, should we prepare for an emergency landing?”
Amid her unconscious state, Annabel suddenly convulsed violently.
fractures and internal bleeding. She needs
14
Kenneth held her steady and told the attendant, “Contact the airport, and get an ambulance ready. She has multiple. Before he could finish, his wrist was suddenly gripped. Those unfocused eyes miraculously sharpened for a moment, and he saw a chilling determination burning
in them.
“Don’t go… hospital.” Annabel gasped, blood foaming at her lips with every word. “Please…”
He froze, then somehow nodded. “I have a rehab center out in the suburbs.”
