Falling, fading, lost in pain,
Crimson spills like endless rain.
Hands that hurt now drag me near,
Whispers laced with cruel fear.
A voice, a name—a light, a plea,
But darkness claims the rest of me.
Chapter 47
Somewhere in my subconscious, I knew I was falling, falling to the ground.
I heard screams from people running to me, the loudest of which was madam maria's.
I felt myself being draped with someone's blanket and lifted from the ground. I heard madam mariai screaming at the extent of my injuries, especially the deep one on my head, as I was carried back into the house.
I heard it all…but I honestly wished I didn't. I wished I was dead.
"She is losing too much blood," madam maria was crying now, holding a piece of cloth over the wound on my head that was fast soaking.
"We have to take her to the hospital."
"Get her dressed," came the voice I dreaded the most. "I'll take her myself."
I forced my eyes open and saw that, indeed, my predator was still there, lurking over me like an evil spirit.
I wanted to protest, to vehemently refuse having him any more involved than he'd already been.
He had done more than enough. But I was too weak to even form the words, too weak to even speak.
Considering the extent of my injuries, they didn't bother taking me back to my room but instead brought from there a fresh set of clothes.
After being hastily dressed in an ill-fitting gown I hardly ever wore, madam Maria helped me to my feet.
From the way she staggered, it was obvious my weight was too much for her.
"Why all this unnecessary fuss?" Ibrahim snapped.
"She is more than able to walk by herself. Leave her alone."
Madam Maria hesitated before letting go of me, and as expected, I buckled.
"Leave her!" Ibrahim bellowed at the others who reached for me. "I won't tolerate any of such theatrics from anyone. She is not an invalid."
Putting a hand over a fresh piece of cloth, while at the same time steadying me. "Hold this over your head. Please, don't remove it. As soon as you get to the hospital, that's the first thing you should show the doctor." madam maria said.
The room was still swaying, and my feet were still unsteady, but taking small steps, I was finally able to make it outside, where Ibrahim's driver was now waiting with his car.
"Get inside! I don't have all day!" he snapped, making me stumble in my rush to increase my pace.
In the car, my eyes met the driver's in the rear-view mirror, and the sadness I saw in them gave me an idea of just how bad I looked.
"You better sit up, and stop playing the part of an invalid," Ibrahim snapped as the car made its way to the hospital. "You have been through worse, and we both know it."
Except he was wrong. As badly as I'd been beaten in the past, I had never felt this shattered. By now, even the cloth madam Maria had placed over my wound was soaked, and blood was now trickling down my arm. This was worse than anything I'd suffered before.
Way worse.
The car pulled up in front of the hospital, and Ibrahim got out of it.
But much as I tried, I couldn't summon the strength to do the same. He walked over to my door, yanked it open, and dragged me out.
"Behave yourself!" he whispered hoarsely in my ear, grabbing me by the arm. "You better not draw any undue attention to yourself. We will have your wound treated and leave, do you understand?"
Unfortunately it was too late for that, as my swollen and bleeding face had already drawn plenty of attention from people standing around.
And then like a ray of light, Jacobi emerged from the building. His brows furrowed as he watched us approach, and the moment recognition set in, he gasped.
"Zeynep!"
"Jacobi! Welcome back home. It's good to see you again," Ibrahim greeted, trying to sound casual, keeping a firm hand around my arm to keep me steady. "I see you've met my father's wife."
"What happened to her?" he demanded, walking up to us. "Helen, bring the wheelchair."
"Wheelchair? There's no need for that," Ibrahim chuckled. "She just had a small fall at home, that's all. A fall in her bathroom, I'm told."
Jacobi looked at me, at the blood-soaked cloth over my head, at my swollen and bleeding face, and there was sadness in his eyes…sadness and anger.
He made to take me from my abuser, but the latter held on. "Not so fast, doctor. I'm more than capable to guide her in. As long as her husband, my father, is away, she is my cardinal responsibility."
"She's your cardinal responsibility, and this happened to her?" Jacobi exploded, unable to mask his rage. "This isn't the result of any fall, but a vicious attack!"
"Jacobi waverson, it's like you've forgotten we're not age mates. You better watch how you talk to me," Ibrahim snarled. "I wonder if you get this angry over all your patients or if there is anything special here. If there is, that would be a very, very bad idea."
Jacobi squared up before him. "Your empty threats don't scare me."
"Empty?" Ibrahim chuckled. "Lying in your hospital bed is living proof that I don't make empty threats. He's lucky that it wasn't my father that got his hands on him, otherwise he would have been in the morgue by now. We don't make empty threats."
"Keep talking, and I'll have the police over," Jacobi answered, his fists clenched. "I'm sure they'll be very interested to hear about the empty threats you don't make."
As they argued, I found myself feeling weaker and weaker. And then with no warning, I lurched forward and vomited. Except it wasn't just vomit. It was blood.
Ibrahim let go of my arm and stepped back. As Jacobi rushed to my aid, I heaved again and threw up some more blood, this time all over him. Undaunted, he lifted me in his arms, and just as I slipped into unconsciousness, I saw Ibrahim scamper into his car, which then sped off like a bat out of hell.
And then everything went black