He quickly turned red–eyed, his expression bordering on madness as he dragged me toward the hospital’s exit.
“Wendy, I know you hate me right now, but you’ll forgive me.”
His voice trembled, a strange desperation weaving through it. “I have money, lots of it. I’ll buy you a big house. You can’t leave me.”
The implication was clear–he wanted to lock me away, like some kind of possession. Had Kathy’s betrayal driven him completely insane?
He tried to shove me into his car, but I grabbed onto the door with one hand, refusing to budge. “Brad, have you lost your mind? You don’t even love me. Let me go!”
His eyes, red and hollow, filled with sorrow as his delicate, handsome features twisted. “Wendy, how could I not love you? I never wanted us to part.” His voice softened into something unhinged. “You belong to me. It doesn’t matter if you don’t love me, as long as you’re mine.”
Those deranged words didn’t evoke any joy in me–only fear and anger.
“You lied about being poor, pretended to be mute, and stole my grandma’s life–saving money to buy a bag for Kathy,” I spat. “You’ve done all these despicable things, and instead of feeling remorse, you want to imprison me to satisfy your twisted need to own me?
“Brad, you’re disgusting. Loving someone like you is the biggest regret of my life.”
I don’t know which part of my words triggered him, but something snapped in him. He pressed me against the car, his lips crashing onto mine.
I bit down hard, tasting his blood as he finally pulled back. His eyes were glassy, his voice cracking as he said, “Wendy, you can’t stop loving me. My parents only married for business, and they’ve never cared about me. Only you and your grandma ever treated me well. Let’s make up. Let me make it up to you.”
I glared at him, fire burning in my eyes. Could he bring my grandmother back to life? Even his life wasn’t worth comparing to hers.
Before I could respond, a shadow rushed forward and punched him to the ground. The next thing I knew, I was pulled to safety.
“We live in a lawful society! You think you can just kidnap someone like this?” said the voice, brimming with righteous anger.
I turned, shocked. “Cameron, is that you?”
Cameron Wade, my childhood neighbor and a boy who had always looked out for me, stood there.
His eyes lit up as he recognized me. “Wendy! It’s really you!”
I couldn’t help but feel relief wash over me. Glancing at the fallen Brad, I grabbed Cameron’s hand and said, “Let’s go. Now.”
We ran, the wind tossing our hair. When we finally stopped, panting and laughing, it felt like old times.
