Chapter 4
When I finally came to, I was bound up so tightly inside some sweltering, black canvas sack that even breathing felt like fire burning in my chest.
Right next to me, a kid's voice rang out—icy, with no emotion at all.
The kid said, "Dad, it was her. She had people tie me up and hurt me."
I stiffened. So this was Jamie?
He made it out? Was he really rescued?
Hazel clung to Michael's waist, her voice soft as she whispered.
She said, "Michael, I'm sure Ms. Reed got kidnapped by this wicked woman's accomplices too.
"She's so pretty. What if something awful happens to her? What would we even do then?"
But before Hazel could finish, Michael stormed back and kicked the sack hard.
"Spit it out! Where are your partners hiding?" Michael snarled, his voice like a whip snapping through the air.
White-hot pain detonated in my stomach. It felt like he'd slammed a steel hammer right into my gut.
My body jerked up instinctively, but all I could do was twitch helplessly, bound so tightly that I could only curl up in spasms.
The drugs kept my mind awake but locked my voice away. I couldn't even scream, just silently writhed inside this living nightmare.
But Michael just assumed I was playing tough, refusing to talk.
"Still not talking, huh?" he sneered, his voice cold and threatening.
Then he drove his foot into my stomach again.
All I could do was twitch as everything turned black. I was so close to passing out, sure I was about to die.
"Fine. Have it your way," he said, his voice ice-cold.
He clenched his jaw, glaring down at me.
"I've got a thousand ways to make you spill everything," he growled, each word sharp as a blade.
Hazel bragged, with a smug smile on her face. "Michael's got connections in every field—cops, lawyers, doctors, you name it. So you'd better behave, or you'll regret ever crossing him."
"If he doesn't want the baby, all it takes is a word from him, and the hospital director will forge a report of the baby stopping developing to deceive his pregnant wife. And if he wants to fake your suicide? That's no big deal at all," she sneered, flaunting it like they were untouchable.
My mind went numb, thunder crashing in my head.
So it wasn't just a miscarriage.
They had planned it together. They killed my baby.
Suddenly, a hammer crashed down on me with bone-crushing force.
The dull crunch of my ribs snapping rang in my ears.
Every breath burned with the taste of blood, my chest feeling like my shattered ribs were piercing my lungs.
He was already raising the hammer for another swing.
This time, he didn't say a word.
He just kept swinging, again and again, like a machine.
Once. Twice. Three times...
Every hit crashed into me like the world was ending. I prayed for death, just to escape the agony.
After a while, I couldn't feel the pain anymore. I couldn't hear a thing either.
But he didn't stop. He just kept swinging, relentless.
One hundred and forty-four times—every blow, delivered by his own hands.
By the end, I was nothing but a blood-drenched, shredded ragdoll.
Then, Hazel finally recoiled, fear trembling in her voice as she backed away.
She said, "Mike, isn't that enough? She's practically dead..."
But it was like Michael didn't even hear her, his voice thick with tears.
He said, "Charlotte is my everything. I really can't live without her.
"If she hadn't been there for me, I wouldn't be where I am now. Back in school, the bullying would've driven me to jump off a rooftop.
"If anyone ever hurts her, I'll take out their whole family!"
Hazel sank to the floor, clutching Jamie close, not daring to say a single word.
"Are you gonna talk? Speak!" Michael yelled, desperation raw in his voice.
Nothing. Just dead silence from inside the sack.
Michael suddenly burst out laughing—a crazed, broken sound that made my skin crawl.
"Then go to hell!" he roared, fury twisting every word.
He stood and hissed, "Get rid of her. Make sure nothing's left."
Just then, the warehouse door slammed open and light poured in, cutting through the darkness inside the sack.
Backlit by the glare, a tall figure stood in the doorway, the whole place falling into deathly silence.
"Mr. Reed," someone whispered, the name echoing in the quiet.