“Goodbye, Violet,” my attacker laughed. I felt his body shift above me as he plunged the knife into my chest. A flash of blue light filled my vision as pain exploded throughout my entire body. I felt the weight of my attacker lift off of me and I knew I was alone.
I rolled over onto my side and laid there in the middle of the street. Blood rushed from my wounds like I’d been keeping it prisoner. It soaked through my clothes and pooled beneath me. I struggled to get my hands free but it was no use, the rope was too tight. Every little movement sent a jolt of pain through my body, paralyzing me. There was nothing I could do, I was losing too much blood too fast and had no way of putting pressure on the wounds.
My body felt heavy. It grew harder to thrash around, to move at all. I opened my mouth to scream again but no sound came from my blood-soaked lips. My eyelids fluttered closed and the world disappeared around me as I took the last few breaths of my life.
This is it.
Chapter 3
I felt a hand pressed firmly against my abdomen. Someone was trying to stop the bleeding but I knew it was a futile effort. Even as my thoughts faded and darkness closed in, I heard a familiar, far-off voice calling my name. I could no longer feel the pain of my wound and knew it wouldn’t be much longer. It was strange knowing I was on death’s door and not afraid. Instead I felt at peace. I thought of my parents’ deaths and wondered if they felt the same comfort I felt now.
“Violet!” I heard someone call my name again. But I didn’t want to try and answer anymore.
“Violet, can you hear me?” the voice asked, starting to panic. I fought my heavy eyelids if only to soothe him and tell him it was okay to let me go. But when my eyes finally opened and I saw the person hovering over me, I didn’t want to go anymore.
I fought against the inevitability of my death like a shipwrecked sailor battling the waves, resisting the blackness that held onto me. But death felt like such a peaceful place, like being swaddled in a blanket.
“Violet!” he yelled again. There was an edge of anger behind the panic.
Forcing myself to look at him, I caught a clear glimpse of his face. His brow furrowed with worry and he clenched his jaw in determination. I fought the dark waters pulling me down and gasped to remain conscious.
He was so beautiful.
Realizing my hands were no longer tied around my back, I tried to lift my hand to his face and soothe the worry from his brow. It would be nice, I thought, to feel the touch of another human being, one last time, but I couldn’t find the strength to move.
“Violet, I need you to look at me so I can connect.” His voice was severe as I groaned and coughed up a mouthful of blood.
“Look at me!” he demanded.
Startled back to attention, I looked up at him with the last bit of strength I had and held onto the image of his mahogany eyes. I tried to say his name, to ask him what he was doing here, but no sound passed my blood-drenched lips.
“It’s going to be okay, I just need you to stay fixed on my eyes. Please, Violet.” He swallowed hard, but his voice held a determined edge. I didn’t know how he thought he was going to save me. I didn’t have much time left but something in his velvet voice kept the darkness at bay and lightened the weight drowning my soul. He held my gaze with an intensity that made me think he could see right into my soul and as we stared at each other I noticed a small fleck in his right eye that was a shade darker than the rest of his iris.
Suddenly, I felt warmth spread through my body. It started where he touched my stomach and slowly moved to my chest and extremities. The warmth of his eyes burned into me and coursed through my body the way lava flowed down a hillside, slow and merciless. He gritted his teeth, squinted his eyes in focus and strained every muscle in his body as he looked down at me.
How was he doing this? I thought. The warmth spread all over me and I could feel it pulling me to the surface, out of the darkness. The tingling heat wrapped around each blood vessel, engulfing every inch of my body and brought me back from the brink of death. His hand moved away from my stomach and the warmth instantly left my body.
Then I felt it. The cool breeze on my skin, the sticky smell of the ocean air. There was no darkness, no warmth and no pain.
“You’re alright now,” he said, panting like he’d swam a mile.
“Robert?” I said, sitting up and searching for his face. I thought it would hurt to move but I didn’t feel anything. I ran my hands along my stomach where the knife had gone in but found no wound, just two small scars that hadn’t been there before. I was still covered in my blood and my shirt was torn to shreds. I turned my wrists over and saw the marks the rope had left. I felt the small lump on the side of my head where it had met the trunk, but this seemed to be the worst of my injuries. How was I still alive?
Robert sat on the pavement to the left of me, his knees bent with both arms folded over his legs and his head down looking away from me.
“Robert, what happened? How am I alive?” I asked, wiping the dried blood from my lips.
“You’re fine now, that’s all that matters,” he said, eyes still facing the pavement.
“But that man stabbed me. What did you do?” My voice was barely a whisper. “I felt you touching my stomach and then I was warm all over. I thought I was dying and then …” I didn’t know how to continue. I felt exposed and foolish for saying these ludicrous questions out loud. I mean, how could I be dying one minute and fine the next?
“Violet, I…” He finally turned and looked at me with those piercing brown eyes. They didn’t hold the same warmth they had a minute ago.
I moved closer to him and saw that his hands were covered in my blood. My stomach did a perfect double tuck off the imaginary balance beam in my abdomen as I watched my blood drip off his fingers and onto the pavement. Against my better judgment, I moved closer, wanting to feel that warm comfort again.
“How did you… what did you… I mean, I’m okay now,” I said, placing a hand on my woundless stomach and looking up at him. Robert showed no emotion, his face stern and cold. I could tell he was trying very hard to hide something from me.
“Please, just tell me,” I pleaded.
He sighed. “It’s not that simple. All that matters is you’re okay.”
“Robert, please. I just want to understand.”
He got to his feet and reached down to help me up. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him take a quick glance at my bare stomach, but his face remained hard and expressionless when his eyes finally met mine.
“We should get you changed. You don’t happen to have any extra clothes in your car, do you?” he asked.
“Err… no,” I replied, looking down at my tattered, bloody shirt and blood-stained slacks. At least my pants were black so it was hard to tell they looked like a costume piece for some slasher movie.
“Alright, I think Brett’s about your size. We can get some clothes from her.”
“The bridesmaid?”
“Yeah, she’s my sister, now come with me,” he instructed, pulling me by the arm back toward the house.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what just happened!” I yelled and yanked my arm free from his grasp.
I crossed my arms and stared at him with as much authority as I could muster. He turned around to look at me and I almost fell to the ground. The heat I longed for radiated off of him and I had to lock my knees to stay upright. He took two steps toward me and closed the gap between us. His eyes never left mine as he reached up and put his hand on my arm. His hand felt warm and soon that warmth spread to my fingers. My arm relaxed.