Itus Grey
The man suddenly lunged forward, kicking Christian in the gut. Christian reeled with the sound of air being forced out of him. He staggered backwards, holding his rib. The man continued his assault, brining his fist up to meet Christians face. It hit Christian right in the the eye. I gasp, unable to comprehend what I'm seeing.
" Arg! Fuck!" He yells, covering his bruising eye. There's blood on his clothes and it seems to have dried on his face. I sob, not wanting to see my fifty in this state. He can't fight back against a man with a gun. He's helpless. The man places the gun in a holder inside his jacket, and begins throwing punches repetitively into Christians body. His face, his gut, his ribs. Christian stands still, taking every blow with agonising confidence. Eventually, Christian falls to the ground, his breathing jagged and heavy. He sits on his knees, his head down.
" You have five minutes. Go." The gun-man yelled, giving Christian one last powerful kick to the face. Christian's head was forced up by the kick, his whole neck being bent backwards. He quickly staggered up, rubbing the newly-oozing blood off his face. I scream and fighht again against my restraints. Oh god, please let this stop. Christian Looks into my eyes, his face wrecked and eyes melting. He didn't want to leave me here with them.
" Stop!" The man with the gun yelled, making Christian turn around slowly. He paused, thinking, then continued.
" Your face is too fucked-up to go back there. Get her to do it." He said, waving the gun at me. My head whirled, wanting the gun to disappear. The man behind me finally let me go, my arms in agony. I ran towards Christian, but I felt the gloved hands grab my wrists and swing me back, throwing me onto the floor. I aimed my body instinctively, avoiding collision to my bump.
" Arg!" I yell franticly, landing roughly onto the grass. The man grasped my wrist, forcing me onto my feet. I wrap my arm over my bump, praying that this night would be a just story in the distant future.
" If we see anyone else but you come back, we'll shoot. Got it?" The man with the gun asks, the venom in his voice clear. I nod, wiping my face. I give one last look at Christian, his battered face bewildered. I quickly walk towards the house, slowing as I approach. I didn't want any suspicion. I glance at myself in the window, checking that my appearance is believable. I look pale. Paler than usual. I shake my head, trying to get into the right state of mind. I walk into the house, and many faces lit up as I do so. I give fake smiles, hoping to get through the room without getting engaged in conversations.
" Ana, my dear, you look tiered. Where's Christian? He should take you home." Grace asked, her arms wrapping reassuringly around me. Damn it. I needed to get out of here, quickly. I think of excuses to bat her away.
" Uhm, Christian is in the bathroom. We're just getting ready to leave." I reply, smiling as I speak.
" Oh, alright! I'll make sure Taylor is ready and waiting for you." She says, walking out of the room. Few. I then realise once Taylor is informed our time will be budgeted even more. Shit! I try to keep my walking at a sensible speed, heading towards the main hall. It's empty, whilst everyone is eating in the dinning room. I see the charity bowl of money mounted on a table in the centre of the room. I run over, glancing at the piece of paper in front of it.
$450,000
I hope it's enough. It'll have to be. I pick up the bowl, its weight surprising me. I remember the words Doctor Greene said to me a while back.
Try not to put any strain on your back, Ana. It's dangerous for the child.
I shiver, realising I have no choice. I then remember that I cannot go out the way I've come, holding this money. I glance around franticly, knowing I haven't got a lot of time to play with. I see a window that leads out to the side of the house. I run over, placing the bowl of money of the floor. I open it with ease, locking it into place. I pick up the bowl and, gently, try to drop it on the flower beds below. Luckily, It doesn't smash. I turn around to check I'm still alone. I am. I climb through the window, scraping my back against the wooden panel. I feel the burn of ripped skin, making my eyes water. I ignore it. My feet touch the ground, and I pick up the bowl. I walk to the end of the wall, checking the coast in clear. It is. I quickly walk back towards Christian, my heart pounding heavily in my ears. Please don't be too late. Please.
I finally get back, and Christian is crouched on the floor, his hands covering his face. In the darkness, I see the drips of blood ooze through his fingers. I wrench, trying to keep the sickening bile in my throat down.
" She's here." The man who was holding me before speaks. It's the first time I've heard him talk.
" Good. Get the money off her." The man with the gun commands. He does as told, snatching the money out of my hands. Whilst they exchange, I run over to Christian, draping my arms over him.
" Christian? Christian! Oh god." My voice shakes, the sickness spreading through my veins. He tries to straighten up, falling slightly. He wheezes, sounding like he's been through hell. He says nothing. His hand reaches towards me and lays on my bump. It feels bloody and torn, making the anger build higher inside a dark part of me I never knew existed.
Suddenly, I hear the shot of guns from the distance. Shit, Taylor! I see him bounding towards us, gun in hand, whilst yelling down his sleeve to other contacts. My heart races and our freedom seems out of reach yet again.
" You snivelling Bitch! You led him here!" The man with the gun yells, grabbing me by my hair. I scream as he drags me away from Christian, my head stinging. I see Christian's head cock up, and his tortured eyes meet with mine for a faint moment.
" No." He whispers, his voice a shadow of his confident self. What did they do to him? The gunned man stops near the edge of the water, the light from the old boat house in the near distance. He throws me on the floor, my head bouncing off the ground. It hurts more than I thought it would, making me spin. The man walks away, his back towards me. He suddenly stops and turns around: facing me. His hand reaches inside of his jacket pocket, retrieving his gun. I hear Taylor's gun shoot in the distance, but nothing changes. The man points the gun towards me, and I hear the well known click of the safety reel. I stare down the tunnel of the gun once more, as Christians horrified face blurs in the background. Tears run down my face, burning my cheeks. I lie down, wrapping myself in I ball. I cover my bump, doing everything I can to save her. My baby.