When Lily Langston goes to a game with her best friend. The last thing she ever thought to happen was being hit in the face with a ball.
But what left her even more shocked was when the guest pitcher himself, the known ruthless billionaire Hayes Gr...
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5 Years ago
The clattering noise that begged me to wake brings be out from a haze. It grows in noise as I stand on my feet and walk out of my room.
It continues as the lock to my front door can only hold it at bay for so long. So much for the safety of this alleged building. I don't feel fear, I feel alarmed and confused.
But as I reach for my phone to dial the number of the police, I hear her.
"Hayes please!"
She's screaming on the other end of that door. Begging to get in and as I step to the door and look out the hole my stomach drains.
I open the door and Amelie falls in my arms almost lifeless. Her cold body bruised and a gash displaying a horrifying story above the eye.
"Amelie speak to me" She groans slightly and I swiftly move her closing the door bolting it behind me. She had a key to the building, but not my apartment.
She laid in my arms on the ground, she should be in college. But instead she's here beaten and bruised in my arms, who'd been so careless with her.
The thought of what might have occurred fills me with horror and solemn all at the same time. I want to ask what's wrong, but before I can utter another word. She just begins to cry. Her body curls against mine in need of its protection. She doesn't need me to be her big brother, she needs me to just be here.
"H-Hayes" my gaze falls back to those hopeless eyes, she seems so gone.
I questioned why she wasn't in one of her treatment sessions or school. In my eyes she was still just my little sister. But she had been hurt brutally without any indication of what brought upon it.
My mind floats to places, to people. But she breaks that focus, "I'm sorry I- I didn't know where to-"
"Shh, always come here okay?" She nods her head with the feeling of guilt bearing down on her. I didn't want her to feel an ounce of it.
"Who did this to you Amelie?" Her lips quiver at my question, the thought of it brings her to tears again. But then as she looks to her sparkling engagement ring.
I instantly knew.
My dying sister had fallen victim to her own fiancé. A soul sucking loser who'd she'd fallen for in her chem lab sophomore year. She rushed into it and I warned her not to. But now, in this moment there's no use in claiming what I didn't want to be right about.
