Within the captivating world of power and allure, Cameron Miller and Anita Richards find themselves entangled in a magnetic dance of desire.
Drawn together by an irresistible connection that defies societal boundaries, the elusive CEO is consumed by...
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Rushing through the hospital doors, my gaze darted anxiously around the room until Melinda's voice called out my name. I hurried towards her, enveloping her in a tight embrace as her bloodshot eyes met mine. Though she was the first to pull away, I held onto her, finding solace in her presence as she trembled slightly while expressing her gratitude for my arrival.
"What happened?" I inquired, my mind still reeling from the flood of urgent messages and calls I received after leaving Cameron's place. The drive to the hospital was fraught with nerves, yet I refused to entertain the worst-case scenarios.
Melinda gripped my hand tightly, leading me towards one of the rooms. Despite my unease at being back in a hospital setting after recent events, I plastered on a brave front as we entered, only to be met with the sight of a battered woman lying in the bed.
Though I've never hidden my dislike for her, I understood the gravity of the situation. Abuse was a reality many faced, a truth that transcended personal grievances.
The click of the door closing snapped me out of my reverie, reminding me of the harsh reality before me. As I took in the bruised features of the woman on the bed, I noticed Brooke's uneasy demeanour, despite her seemingly blank expression. I approached her, gently tapping her shoulder to draw her attention. Her glazed eyes met mine briefly before she shook her head, her breath shaky.
"If either of you say I told you so..." Candace's warning was cut short by a sharp intake of breath and a pained expression, evoking a surge of compassion within me. I moved to her side, placing a comforting hand on hers.
"Easy now," I murmured, taking a seat beside her and exchanging a glance with Melinda. "What happened?"
She huffed, retreating deeper into the room, a tell-tale tick forming on her jawline. "The same thing I warned her about," she muttered, prompting a frustrated reaction from Candace, who clasped her eyes shut.
"Whether I say it or not doesnt make it any less true," Melinda snapped, her tone sharp with concern. Though her words weren't directed at me, I found myself drawn back to the woman on the bed, whose eyes welled with tears.
"I-I'm not an idiot, I'm just stuck," came her wavering voice, prompting me to gently squeeze her hand, a small gesture amidst the overwhelming sense of helplessness. Despite our recent clash, all I saw now was a person grappling with life's complexities, just like the rest of us.
A heavy silence hung over the room as she sniffled audibly, while Melinda slumped into a nearby seat, defeated. "What do you mean, Candace?"
Candace groaned, her expression pained as she wiped away tears with forceful motions. As I observed their interaction, I sensed a deeper connection between Candace and Melinda, born from years at the club together. Candace's admission hung in the air, casting a pall over us all.
No one dared to speak, nor did I dare to move. Seated closest to her, I witnessed the tears she fought to conceal resurface, tracing a path down her bruised face as she kept her gaze fixed on her lap.
"I-I didn't want this. I wanted to dance – and when that injury happened," she choked on her words, shaking her head in disbelief. "I-I c-couldn't get up. And when he came, I really thought – but I was wrong..."
Each word gripped me, stirring a queasiness in my gut. Beside me, Brooke's gentle touch offered some solace as I struggled to contain the rising nausea, focusing on slow, deep breaths.
"I know we had a fall out but you could always talk to me, Cee," Melinda's voice softened, a stark contrast to her earlier demeanour.
"Let's give you some privacy," Brooke suggested, tapping my shoulder lightly as we exited, leaving them to their conversation. Leaning against the wall, I tried to steady myself.
"You okay?" Brooke asked, concern etched on her face.
"I should be asking you that, after all, you're the one who brought her here."
"Apparently her and the guy came to her place and things got out of hand," Brooke explained. "There'd been blood, you know, so much of it."
"It shouldn't have gotten this far."
She hugged herself, her expression blank as she shifted on her feet. Overwhelmed by recent events, I felt a sense of paralysis, realizing the same fate could befall any of us.
"We should've done something," Brooke whispered, her distress palpable. Without hesitation, I enveloped her in a comforting embrace.
As we stood there, grappling with the weight of the situation, an unexpected voice pierced the tension, offering a glimmer of hope: "We can do something..."
