Don't Leave Me Breathless

by A Kelly

  She thanked God, or whoever was watching them from above, for her decision last night.

  Summer kept slapping Cornelia. She had to wake up. Her survival depended on it. Their survival depended on it.

  Cornelia finally opened her eyes and looked up. ‘Summer…’

  ‘You’ll be okay, Cornelia. Just stay alert and do as I say…’ she whispered and forced her to sit up. Very soon Cornelia would have to be able to run.

  Slowly Summer let go of Cornelia. She faced Bobby, up close.

  ‘Where is the money?’ Bobby said.

  ‘I don’t have it.’

  ‘Wow… one surprise after another.’

  ‘Come on, Bobby. When was the last time you heard from Cesario?’

  Bobby stared at her.

  ‘Diego Cesario – a Spanish immigrant, AKA Brian Alejandro-Macken – a passport officer, AKA lawyer Alex Marin. He’s in custody. He won’t be able to help you. So the money would’ve been useless anyway. You can’t run forever, Bobby. The police have been slow, but today is the day.’

  ‘So be it. I’ve got you instead,’ he said, and swung his arm to grab her neck.

  But Summer blocked his advance with her wrist. She got onto her front foot and elbowed his solar plexus.

  Bobby rubbed his stomach as if cleaning dirt off his T-shirt. He sidestepped to reach for Cornelia, but Summer followed and kept blocking him.

  ‘Seventy K, that should have been enough for you to disappear anywhere. For now. Why would you pay 100K to a scumbag like Cesario? It was a total rip-off!’

  ‘Shut up!’

  ‘I know he offered all the frills – after all, I was right about the Caymans.’

  Once more Bobby tried to push Summer aside. His eyes were firmly on Cornelia, who was slowly getting up.

  This time Summer struck Bobby with the back of her fist, forcing him to stumble further from Cornelia, into the empty space in the room. Before he could steady himself, she spun, swung her leg, full length, and landed her heel once more on the same spot. She wasn’t a desperate type, she’d said, but she would protect Scipio – or his daughter – relentlessly, desperately.

  Bobby, still standing despite being cornered, nodded at what she’d just done. He released a few chuckles. Before he could change his stance, Summer turned and unleashed a side kick against his throat.

  His laughter stopped.

  ‘Cornelia, get out!’ Summer shouted. ‘Get out!’

  Without hesitation, Cornelia pulled herself up and ran.

  That was too fast for Bobby. He’d expected Scipio, he got her. He’d expected her to be reluctant to hurt her (ex) husband, but today he faced a woman who was burningly protective – and had everything to live for.

  Yes, she would do anything to stay alive.

  As Summer ran to the door to join Cornelia, a blow to her ankle halted her. Bobby’s military boot had more than tripped her; she’d heard the crack of bone. Her ankle. So she wasn’t the only one who was desperate.

  Summer rolled as Bobby pounced at her – wielding a knife. With all her might, she pressed her left hand against his chest, trying to keep him at a distance, while her right hand gripped his wrist to stop the blade from slicing her neck. Those earlier kicks started to take their toll on her. She had thrown everything at him – her breathing was now erratic and heavy. While still lying on her back, she kicked his groin.

  Bobby was left to deal with his pain, giving Summer a chance to get up. Bobby was still down, knife dropped (it flew across the floor to rest under a cabinet).

  ‘Be a man, Bobby. Give yourself up.’

  ‘You came after me, Summer. You married me.’

  ‘I thought you’d kill me a lot sooner. But you didn’t. When I knew you were no use to me, I left. And you killed Miley and Milo!’

  Bobby chuckled. ‘Those rats!’ he mumbled, getting to his feet. He stood tall. ‘You could’ve just paid me. I’ve kept my promise, Summer. I’ll never harm your Joseph.’

  His eyes shot a sharp glance at her lower abs. He’d never hurt her there, but today… Bobby swung his leg low. Summer lifted her knee – blocking his repeated kicks. But her legs eventually yielded to his boot. She fell. And Bobby crunched her already swollen ankle.

  For the first time she let Bobby see her pain. She screamed and squirmed on the floor that vibrated with Bobby’s every step as he ran to the door.

  Cornelia…

  Summer could hardly stand, but she had to get to Cornelia. She breathed in deep, using the air to kill her pain, then leapt and threw her body to knock him down.

  ‘Hurt me, not my family. Not her, not my man!’

  Where the hell was Varro! Or had she put too much Diphenhydramine in Scipio’s tea?

  Bobby was barely down from Summer’s last offence. She could no longer feel anything, but she knew her hands were clutching his head. She knocked it over and over against the floor.

  He succumbed.

  There was no rope, nothing to tie him with. But there was a knife…

  Summer pushed aside the cabinet under which Bobby’s military knife lay. She could end it now. This wasn’t just about an old kelpie, or a pair of guinea pigs, not even about herself; if she had to spill blood to get Cornelia safe, so be it.

  ‘Summer, let’s leave!’ Cornelia had come back and was standing at the door, crying.

  Summer withdrew the knife. No. That girl couldn’t see blood. And Summer wouldn’t go to jail for Bobby’s blood. She could’ve reasoned self-defence, but forensics would know. Instead she placed Bobby’s right foot under the cabinet and pulled his left leg around the outside of the cabinet’s leg, forming a loop back until his feet met. Then she tied his shoelaces together. At least it would buy her time if he regained consciousness before they left.

  ‘Summer, you…’ Cornelia cried, staring at Summer in horror.

  ‘Come on, let’s go!’ No time to take stock of what damage Bobby had inflicted on her.

  Cornelia had made a head start towards the car, while Summer hobbled away to slash Bobby’s tyres.

  Inside, a ruckus unfolded. Summer speculated that Bobby had moved and the cabinet must’ve fallen… did it get him?

  The unpainted cottage door slammed open. Cornelia was about to jump into the passenger’s seat, but Summer, knowing she herself wouldn’t get there in time, quickly threw the keys to Cornelia.

  ‘Drive! Drive as fast as you can!’ Summer shouted. She was still a few steps away from the car and Bobby was now right behind her. ‘Call the police!’ She was thankful she’d left her mobile in the car.

  ‘Summer!’ Cornelia yelled.

  ‘Go!’

  For a man Summer thought she had crushed, Bobby looked fine. Summer swung her arm, ready to stab Bobby’s neck, but he had read her. He held her hand, and he held on, and held on as she bulldozed him away from her car.

  The engine started behind her. Summer tried to free her hand from Bobby’s grip. But he didn’t relent. He used Summer’s fist around the knife’s pommel to break the window behind him. Blood spurted as a protruding glass slashed her palm between her index and middle knuckles. Her fingers unfurled and the blade dropped.

  ‘You thought a school-yard prank would hold me down?’ Bobby smirked.

  The cabinet had got a bit of his leg; he was limping.

  Summer was ready to throw one last kick, but Bobby hugged her leg, lifted it off the ground, threw her down and placed his knee on her throat. Taking no chances to test Summer’s strength, he quickly pressed her chest with his torso. Breathless, everything turned into a blinding flash. She fought to stay conscious, but she smiled and let herself fade when she realised her car had gone.

  In his bedroom Scipio screamed into his mobile phone. No one at the other end. It was only a text message from Bobby.

  Come alone, or else…

  And with that he’d received a photo of Cornelia lying on the floor, unconscious.

  ‘Summer, what have you done?’

  Now Bobby had his two girl
s. He crushed Summer’s note.

  Hell with Varro!

  Without so much as a second thought, Scipio jumped in his car and sped south along the Bass Highway.

  Four hours later, as he was about to enter the heart of the Styx Forest, he spotted a car coming from the distance. He squinted as it approached him at speed.

  Summer’s Rav4, and it was Cornelia driving!

  It came to a sudden halt. ‘Dad! Dad!’ Cornelia cried and stumbled out of the car.

  Scipio hugged her. ‘Are you okay? Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m fine, Dad.’

  ‘Where’s Summer?’

  ‘Bobby has her. The police will be here. I called them. Stay here with me, Dad.’

  Scipio took a deep breath. ‘I… I have to get Summer, okay?’

  ‘Dad…’

  ‘You understand, right? I love you, Cornelia. But I love her too. I love her too much.’

  Cornelia nodded.

  ‘I’ll be okay. Keep driving! Go to Caine.’

  Scipio could sense his daughter saying please don’t go, Daddy. Just like the afternoon after Emily’s funeral. But she held back. She was his girl, his brave girl.

  Scipio watched Cornelia drive away until she was no longer in his rear-view mirror. Then he sped up, in the opposite direction.

  ‘Hello, Joseph,’ greeted Bobby when he arrived at the cottage. He stood casually, leaning against the patio pillar.

  Scipio could have thrown up right there. Blood was splattered across the patio floor right under a broken window. Bobby was bruised up, but to Scipio it was clear the blood wasn’t his.

  ‘She’s okay.’ Bobby put his left hand on Scipio’s shoulder as if to comfort him, but then he pushed Scipio down, bent his other arm, forced him in place and poised himself like a fighter, elevating his shoulder and hammering Scipio’s neck with his elbow.

  Black.

  ‘Hello again, Joseph.’

  Scipio squinted against the bright light. His surroundings were slowly coming into focus: a wooden floor – he was lying on it – scratches and cracks all over, and next to his right ear there were a couple of faded leather boots tapping the wooden surface. His neck was so sore he wanted to pass out again – but Bobby’s face snapped him out of his wilting state. Scipio forced himself to get back on his feet. Alas, his hands were tied behind him to a radiator very low on the wall. He could only lie sideways and watch his captor watching him wriggle and clatter. Bobby must’ve bound him with a pair of handcuffs, but they felt rugged and slightly beady – they could be makeshift cuffs from some sort of chains.

  ‘Hey, man,’ Bobby said.

  ‘You’ve got the money. Let her go.’

  Bobby shook his head with a soft chuckle. ‘Relationship problems, huh? Don’t you two speak to each other?’

  Scipio stared at Bobby.

  ‘She has guts, your Summer. My Summer used to, too. She didn’t bring the money. I thought she was joking.’

  ‘You can do whatever you want. Kill me, torture me, whatever. But if she didn’t have it, then you won’t have it,’ Scipio said, looking at a military knife hanging on Bobby’s left hip.

  ‘I guess it was her money. I’m surprised you didn’t go out of your way to come up with something. Well, you never struck me as a rich man. Still, I know your dedication; you were the one who suggested 200K. Did Summer tell you I wasn’t worth it or something along that line?’ Bobby said plainly. ‘I have 70K. Perhaps I will be satisfied with that. And we’re all good. But… 200K was what you promised. A man must deliver on his promise.’

  ‘But,’ he continued, ‘I had a long thought while you were sleeping. Seventy K… good enough? As a matter of fact, my conclusion was it would be good enough.’ He looked victorious. ‘You know why? They say money can’t buy happiness.’

  Bobby paced in front of Scipio. ‘Don’t look so serious!’ He chuckled. ‘Well, it can buy happiness. But… why would you need a lot of money when you already have what you want?’

  A psychopath’s talk? Or a possessive lover’s threat?

  Bobby went to the other room. From inside that room he shouted, ‘Fuck the 200 grand!’ And he came back with Summer leaning on his shoulder, horribly bruised, barely conscious. Her right hand was heavily bandaged; it must’ve been where the blood outside had come from. ‘I’ve got my happiness.’

  ‘What have you done?’ It wasn’t just a game. Frantically Scipio forced himself forward to break the chains but he went nowhere.

  ‘If you do anything stupid, she’ll get more than a blue neck!’ Bobby pointed the knife at her throat. ‘Or I could strike her here,’ he said, and caressed the back of her neck. ‘The back of your neck is the weakest spot on your body. I could make her like a twelve-year-old. I’ve done it once to a grown man. So, don’t think that I wouldn’t do it to her. I’ve got nothing to lose. If she remains mine, then she’ll be the abiding wife I long for. If she becomes yours, well… she will remind you of me forever.’ He dragged her along until they arrived at the sofa where he left her like a sand bag – head dangling, too weak even to moan.

  The clattering of the chains against the radiator seemed to irritate Bobby so he came to Scipio and kicked his gut.

  ‘She was fierce,’ Bobby said. ‘My God! You should’ve seen how she attacked me. Relentless!’

  Of course she had... Scipio helplessly thought he should’ve just let her come with him. They could have protected each other if both of them had faced Bobby together. She would’ve agreed – but she’d probably have ended up like this anyway, having attempted to protect her man. Her man who was no match for Bobby Swinburne.

  ‘Let her go, Bobby! Or if you really want to kill her, do it now. Do it now in front of me, then kill me.’

  He gently ran the spine of his knife along her cheek. ‘We had our game earlier,’ he said.

  He squeezed her jaw. Summer whimpered and opened her eyes. She turned to Scipio and cried silently.

  ‘She lost, as you can see. Not surprising. She thought Cornelia would be her last fight for the day. She had no more to offer the second time round. In saying that, I usually let her win. But she was so irritating today. Must’ve been because she knew you were coming. She loves you, huh, Joseph?’

  ‘You want me, not her,’ Scipio said. ‘Isn’t that right, Bobby? If you can’t have her, no one can?’

  ‘Thinking about it, I don’t think she ever loved me. Or maybe she did, but in a different way. But you… I don’t know… there was something… I saw what I’d imagined Summer and I should’ve been.’

  ‘You’re jealous of me, punish me, not her!’

  Ignoring Scipio, Bobby carried on, ‘It took ages for you to come round. I got bored so I drugged her.’

  ‘You bastard!’ Scipio moved forward again and pulled his hands really hard. But he only hurt his wrists.

  ‘It’s kinda nice having her tame and obedient,’ Bobby said, playing with her hair like she was a doll. ‘Well, now you’re finally awake, hey, welcome to the party! Sit back, relax, and watch…. And we can call it even,’ he said, straightening Summer’s body so she was lying flat, facing him.

  Scipio’s blood boiled.

  ‘Look at her…’ Bobby said with an overload of lust. ‘Sleeping beauty. I must say I was quite desperate to feel her again that night when I took that photo. I stripped her, but she smelled of you. You two must’ve fucked that morning or something. But today, she looks so beautiful. She smells like Summer. She fought like Summer. And I can’t let it pass me by. Especially now that you’re here.’

  Bobby flicked the knife’s tip to cut Summer’s shirt buttons one by one. Then he exposed her chest.

  ‘Stop it!’ Scipio pleaded. There were more bruises around her shoulders. He almost passed out just thinking about what was going to happen.

  Bobby kissed her neck, then he cut the joint of her bra, right under her cleavage. Summer kept whimpering while his mouth was digging into her breasts, she tried to move but Bobby’s pinning body was like a co
ncrete slab on top of her fragile frame.

  ‘What’s wrong, Summer? You used to like me doing this,’ he said while he licked her nipples. He was breathing like a hog. Slowly he put his knife on the floor. ‘It used to be only the two of us. Why did you let an old dog and a couple of rats get in our way? And what does that man have that I don’t?’ He pointed at Scipio.

  He turned her body face-down. He scrutinised her burn marks and started licking them. ‘You said this was soothing, didn’t you? “You put out the fire in me”. That was what you told me in bed, so many nights,’ he said wiping the tears off her face. ‘I was there for you, Summer. Why did you betray me?’

  ‘Bobby! You want her, stop hurting her!’

  ‘Sshhh!’ he said and tried to listen to what Summer was saying.

  Scipio barely made out what she said: ‘Let him go…’

  ‘You two are asking me to let each other go… I’m confused,’ Bobby said and laughed. ‘Of course, baby. I’ll let him go, but we’ve got to do this first, okay?’

  He continued kissing her back, and he spent a long time lying on her –– his eyes closed, his hands caressing her skin, humming a melody. Then something popped inside him, he opened his eyes like he’d just heard a calling. He turned her face-up again. Huffing, he took off his shirt, revealing his muscular body and a few scars around his abdomen. His right arm was full of tattoos, and one stood out: Summer, inscribed on his right arm with an Alpha symbol on the left and Omega on the right.

  Bobby stripped everything off Summer.

  ‘Noooooooooooo!’ Scipio screamed until he couldn’t utter anything. He kept wrenching his hands –– his wrists bled, the metal sliced into his flesh. He kept fighting his bonds like a hungry mad dog, dying to be free. When he realised all his effort was futile, he screamed inanely once more.

  Bobby was already somewhere else. ‘After all, it’s impossible to move on. I will never get over you, Summer.’ He unzipped his pants. Summer cried, and with all her might she tried to get away from him. When she realised she couldn’t, she begged, softly.

  ‘What is it?’ he said.

  ‘Please…’ she cried.