The Only Choice (The Choices Trilogy #3)

by Palmer, Dee

  I barely sleep but I’m not tired. I am determined to end this today and if my sudden illness and blood loss doesn’t work I am just going to go old school and beat the shit out of her one handed. She might get a lucky shot and I might not be so fortunate but in the end she wants me dead. She wants my baby and I am under no illusion that the minute my baby is lifted from me my time is up. She’s going to make sure of it, so technically I have nothing to lose. Angel swings into the room bright and cheery, polar opposite from the dark twisted demon snarling in my face last night. She chats away moaning about how much more work she has since Kit let her down and Clive is no longer employed. She even pats my back as I choke on the food stuck in my dry throat. I close my eyes to stop myself from breaking in front of her and I even try to look sympathetic to her plight. She takes my tray and just before I can ask again for the hummus she turns her head and sighs dramatically.

  “I’m just off to the deli to get your treat. But don’t make a habit of this.” She waggles her finger at me like I’m a naughty child putting her to so much trouble. She also pauses long enough for me to know I should say something and I guess it’s not ‘fuck off and die bitch.’

  “Thank you Angel, it’s really very kind of you to go to so much trouble and I promise this will be my very last request.” I am hoping it’s just my last meal here and not my actual last meal. I would hate to die with the taste of hummus burning my throat and Angel looking down her nose at me with irritation that I have spoiled her day. She nods, smiles and turns to leave the room. Once the door is closed I sink back against the wall and let out a huge sigh, relieved that it is going to be today after all. I need the combination of all of these things to work together in my plan for the best impact and to ensure success.

  I secure my chain to the wall hopefully for the last time and wait for Angel to loosen the chain enough for me to sit comfortably but with not too much free rein. She flounces in and puts the small brown paper deli bag on the table and sits beside me waiting for me to gush with appreciation. She looks annoyed that I smile tightly and open the bag. My skin tingles even as I remove the small pot and plastic container with the carrot sticks but I know that’s just in my head. I am really not that allergic that I would react to the seeds’ mere presence. I waste no more time and pick the lid off and scoop my finger in and lift a substantial heap of pinkish grainy paste and suck my finger dry, quickly repeating until I have eaten half the pot. I hesitate for a fraction of a second contemplating whether I will need to finish the pot because whether or not I was allergic this stuff tastes pretty nasty but I instantly feel the first hit of heat on my tongue.

  I draw in a deep breath and can feel my rapid heartbeat thump harder in my chest and now the tingles on the skin of my throat are red hot scratches and my tongue feels puffy and swollen. Water is pooling like a lake in my mouth and I can feel it dribble out of the corner of my mouth as I try to pant in some cooler air. All of this I am managing to keep to myself and in my peripheral vision I can see Angel is still inspecting her nails or it might be the material of her skirt. With one sudden sharp movement I stab the soft plump tissue in my left palm, where my thumb joint is, with the bitten sharp point of the thumb nail on my right hand. I stab hard and rip and wriggle deeper into the flesh despite the excruciating pain because I need blood. I bite my teeth, my head feels dizzy, my mouth is on fire and now I can feel my chest tighten. The warm sticky liquid is collecting in my clenched palm and I instantly cup myself at the crotch of my white leggings and continue to pump my fist urging my blood to run from my hand.

  “Angel!” I cry out suddenly but I hardly recognise my voice, my tongue is fat and doesn’t respond to my instructions. My words are slurred but the look on her face, is shocked enough for me to not have to go into detail. She slaps her hand to her mouth at the first sign of blood. “I need an ambulance, please Angel!” I look at the blood seeping down the inside of the top of my leggings and watch as she spins her head away with a hunch of her shoulders and a hand at her mouth. She doesn’t move so I cry again. “Please Angel you have to get help, the baby, you might lose the baby!” Still she doesn’t move and although I don’t think I have lost a lot of blood I feel really dizzy, hot and I am struggling to catch a decent breath. She doesn’t turn but her voice is perfectly calm.

  “Well that would be unfortunate . . .” She hums and taps her fingers idly against her thighs like she is pondering what to eat for dinner. Fuck!

  With a surge of pure hatred and energy I really don’t have I lunge toward her but stumble as all hell breaks loose. The loud sudden bang and crash as the locks on the door disintegrate leaving the door broken and hanging from its’ hinges. Patrick bursts in throwing a large metal bar to the floor and pushing Angel hard, fast and face first against the wall opposite. My knees buckle and I fall but there is no pain, before impact with the floor, I hit Daniel’s outstretched arms. He holds me against his chest before he gently sits me back on the bed. His hands feel cool against my fevered skin, his soft caress starts at my face and sweeps my cheeks, down my neck, over my shoulder, every inch of my body is being traced. He is checking with his hands while his eyes refuse to break from mine. I am panting now and I can’t swallow quick enough to get the air I need and get rid of the water in my mouth. He pushes me to lie down and I have no energy to resist. He starts to pull the waistband of my leggings but sucks in a breath at the blood stained clothing, his eyes dart back to mine but I shake my head and hold up my hand with the gaping tear.

  He looks confused but continues to tug at my clothing, a little rough and hurried. I must look such a state he wants me to change before we leave. I can’t think of any other reason to be stripping me so urgently. He fishes something from his back pocket and quickly presses a hard kiss on my wrinkled brow. “I’m sorry baby and this is going to hurt too but then I’ll make it all better, I promise.” He pulls back and in one swift move rolls me onto my side, stabs me hard with a needle and plunges the contents into my twitching thigh.

  “Fuck!” I grab my leg and try to rub but my hand snaps back with the restriction of the chain. Daniel grabs my wrist and takes the chain and with a single rough jerk of his hand pulls the chain from the wall in a cloud of dust. With this freedom I can rub my thigh again and whatever he has pumped into my bloodstream is starting to clear my head because, my breathing is less laboured and I don’t feel like I am burning from the inside out. I can focus as the fuzz dissipates and like a mirage, the clear lines of Daniel’s handsome face begin to fill my vision, steel the breath just as I had got it back and pool my eyes with tears just as they had regained the clarity of vision.

  “Adrenalin for your allergic reaction.” He motions to where I am rubbing and I nod because I don’t know what to say any more. We stare at each other for what seems like endless minutes then his hand lifts and he tucks a wayward spikey strand of my hair behind my ear and I see him struggle to swallow. He still looks so heartbroken. “I’m so fucking sorry Bethany, I’m so sorry.” He drops his head and when he lifts which only takes a moment his eyes sparkle deep blue with brimming water. “I couldn’t find you. I . . . I tracked her but it made no sense. I searched her place myself, I didn’t understand and when I finally got some audio sound with the watch I knew you were close but I still couldn’t find you. When I heard what you wanted her to get for you . . . Fuck! Bethany what were you thinking? If it wasn’t for Patrick seeing her use this entrance this morning I would never have found you, do you understand!” He sounds so pissed at me and I am so fucking happy that he’s pissed, I’m so fucking happy he’s here. “It’s nothing to smile about, you could’ve died. Jesus Christ Bethany look what she’s done to you!” I laugh at this because the reason I look like I have been in a bar room brawl with a bunch of bikers is because she flipped every time he questioned her. The reason I’m here at all is because she is a crazy psycho bitch for him but none of that matters now. All that matters is that we are getting out of here today, safely; me, Daniel and our baby.
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  He scoops me into his arms and I gladly rest my head against his chest and hold my arms around his neck. What a difference a day makes, I have gone from feeling isolated, terrified and without hope to feeling safe, cherished and full of promise. “The baby?” My question sounds uncertain because I honestly don’t know what to expect but I am seriously confused when at first he frowns then he smiles a knowing smile.

  “There is no baby.” He kisses the tip of my nose but he stops when he feels my body tense. “What? What is it?” His voice is raised and he looks stern so I shake my head because this is obviously not the right time to break the ‘happy’ news.

  “Nothing.” I smile and can feel him instantly relax. “You got her gun though, right?” He turns to face the door, Patrick is looking at us with one hand on Angels shoulder keeping her pinned to the wall. We both look at them then Daniel looks back at me.

  “What gun?” He turns his back on Patrick and Angel and stepping toward the opened door his question is drowned by the ear shattering crack of gunfire, Angel’s gun. There is a crunch sound of breaking bone, a soft cry and a muffled sound of Angel crumpling on the floor. Thank God Patrick took her out before she took aim, thank God she didn’t manage to hit anyone, thank . . . Wait. Why are we falling? Daniel folds so slowly to his knees with me protected in his arms it’s almost graceful, we both look down between us, the shadow of the tiny space between our bodies darkens as his T-shirt starts to discolour. No. .no. .no. Please no. He can’t be shot, no. .no . . . no. I look into his eyes, the panic, the pain. I can feel it. God I can feel it too. So much pain, so much fucking pain. Why does it hurt me so much? I press my hand against his side and feel him wince but I wince too. I take my hand and press where I feel his pain, my side mirrors his but there’s so much blood, too much blood. I sigh and though the pain is unbelievable I smile because I will gladly endure. I think if I can take some of his pain, he won’t look so sad. I close my eyes and think maybe now is a good time to sleep but he is going to have to stop shouting at me. I can’t sleep if he keeps shouting.

  “Don’t you fucking close your eyes! Don’t you fucking dare! Do you hear me?”

  I CAN FEEL the cold in my knees as the damp ground seeps through the thick denim of my jeans, its making them numb. I like the feeling because the pain of feeling him slip through my fingers is like a knife inching its way slowly through my side, under my ribs and piercing my heart; ripping and severing every vein, every nerve ending, tearing through the muscle and flesh as it goes. It’s unbearable, its heart breaking. I am heart broken. I pull my sticky fingers from his hair but I’m confused at his soft smile and when John whispers that I will be fine I want to scream ‘How can I ever be fine?’ but my body won’t respond. I look at my fingers that are no longer coated in blood and back up to his now deep blue eyes and Daniel is smiling now, the words he says are the same but they offer no comfort because I don’t believe him. I can’t believe him. I saw him bleed, I heard the gunshot, how can I be fine if he’s not . . . if he’s . . . I sob but no sound escapes my mouth. My body is an empty shell, my skin feels numb, and deep in my soul there is nothing, just numb. I drop my head and watch as his shirt turns from pale to dark, the rapid absorption of his blood sparks utter desolation in my soul, I scream and scream, breaking through the crippling numbness to release my pain.

  “Shh shhh sweetie. It’s all right, you’re gonna be all right Boo. I’ll get a nurse for the pain. Shh shh don’t cry, please don’t cry.” I hear the catch in her voice and I know she too is crying. I try to open my eyes but I can’t. I know it’s Sofia, I recognise her troubled voice and I so desperately want to see her face that more tears fall out the corners of my closed lids. Her soft hand wipes my cheek again and again. I hear movement and when she informs whoever has arrived that I need something for the pain I shake my head. I can shake my head, that’s something and I try to speak but my throat is so dry and raw it feels like I am in mid sword swallow. I want to tell her I can’t have pain relief. I don’t want pain relief. I don’t want to hurt the baby but the fact that I feel a cool trickle in the crook of my arm makes me think I didn’t make myself clear. I hope that’s the case because I don’t want to think it might because I don’t need to worry about the baby any more. God I’m so tired. I don’t want to be tired, I want to wake up, I want to see Sofia. I want to see Marco and I want Daniel. More tears fall over my cheeks and I think that the pit of my stomach feels the way it does because I won’t get what I want.

  The room is dimly lit but I can see its daylight outside. The slatted blinds are three quarters shut, muting the harsh light from outside and making it bearable to open my eyes. I can open my lids but when I see the utter sadness and devastation on the faces of those I love I wish I hadn’t. No one looks that sad for no reason; maybe if I close my eyes for a little longer I can avoid the horror of the truth that is going to destroy me, again. Marco meets my gaze and his face lights up. He is at my side in an instant clutching my hand and calling to Sofs. Side by side they beam at me but just behind them Vivienne and Tony look more concerned than happy. I lick my lips and although my throat is parched I manage to speak.

  “How was the honeymoon?” I croak. Sofia gasps and slaps her hand to her mouth then they all let out a huge stifled laugh filled with relief.

  “Oh my God Bets! You don’t honestly think we went do you? As soon as I saw that first post on Facebook and then the second Daniel called . . .” She stops mid-sentence as they all flash wide eyes at each other. I can hear the increase tempo of the monitor recording my heart and it is just getting faster now I know they are hiding something.

  “Tell me Sofs.” I try to wet my lips but I have no moisture and I look to see if I have any water to hand. Marco lifts the glass to my lips and I take a tiny sip.

  “Bethany I don’t think it’s a good idea to do the detail right now . . . you’ve just woken up and you’ve been through so much.” She tries to placate me but even as she does she casts a worried glance over the rapidly flickering needle scribbling away beside me.

  “Tell me!” I want to ask lots of questions but I am stuck with one or two word phrases for now and I am going to get more than frustrated if I have to keep repeating them.

  “Tell you what?” The unfamiliar but friendly voice appears just behind Sofia. He is quite young, wearing a white coat and carrying a flip chart. “Welcome back Bethany, you gave us all quite a scare. I’m Dr Young and you are a very lucky lady.” He continues to read the chart and then raises his eyes to meet mine. His smile is kind and makes him look younger still. I smile but not because he is trying to be friendly, I am smiling because of the irony, do I feel like a lucky lady, no.

  “He died?” I don’t care if I’ve been lucky and I don’t care if it’s not the right time. I have to know when my life ended and why I’m still alive. Strangely my question seems to have confused all of them so I just clarify. “Daniel . . . he died.” My eyes water but I blink the tears away and an inappropriate chuckle ripples through the room.

  “Mr Stone?” Dr Young looks to the others for confirmation as I am frozen holding my breath for what’s coming, although why that would be funny is lost on me. “Oh no . . . no he didn’t die. He fared somewhat better than you. The bullet hit him but went straight through, unfortunately it lodged in your spleen. Which is why you spent several hours in surgery and have only just woken up and Mr Stone has had some repair work and is causing a considerable amount of trouble on the next floor.” He chuckles again but his face changes when he sees that I am not smiling and my tears seem relentless. “I’m sorry Bethany. I thought you’d be pleased to learn this news?” He steps forward and takes my hand I am shaking my head because he’s got this so fucking wrong. Of course I’m pleased, I can’t believe it. I thought with my dream that he had died for sure and my sub conscious was preparing me for the worst. My tears which won’t fucking stop are tears of utter relief and joy. Sofia pats the doctors’ shoulder and explains that I am probably a little overwhelmed
and I am actually happy with the news. Under-fucking-statement-of-the-year. “Oh good, well like I say he has been more than a handful. It’s all we could do not to have him restrained to the bed to prevent him coming down here but he needed his rest too and since you hadn’t regained consciousness. Anyway he is due to be discharged in a few days and I am sure he will be down to see you just as soon as he is. You however, have a little longer in here I’m afraid.”

  Dr Young smiles as he checks the notes and asks me some standard questions. Given that no one has asked and it is the only other question on my mind I try for a five word question this time.

  “Is the baby all right?” My voice is barely a whisper but he hears me perfectly and so does Daniel standing in the doorway.

  “What baby?” His deep voice sends a welcome chill down my spine and even though he still sounds pissed, I don’t care.

  Sofia leans in and whispers. “The baby’s fine. No one told him Bets, we only found out because we told the hospital we were next of kin.” She kisses me on the cheek then scowls. “And I am so fucking mad at you for not telling me but lucky for you . . . peril trumps pissed and I’m just so—” She starts to sob and Marco has his arm over her shoulder whilst rolling his eyes.

  “Sorry.” I smile and nod my head to Daniel. “Alone please.” I hope I can manage a few more words when we’re alone or this conversation is going to take forever. I suck in a steady breath because I like the sound of forever. Sofia nods and ushers her parents from the room once they have very carefully hugged and kissed me.