Tangled Hearts.

~Chapter 78~

~Raelyn~

~June 4th~

I woke up choking on my own breath, pain ricocheting through every inch of my body. My ribs screamed with every shallow inhale, my limbs felt like dead weight, and the dried blood on my skin made it impossible to move without agony. My throat was raw, my voice a whisper of what it once was.

The room was dark, the air thick with the scent of sweat, iron, and decay. I forced my eyes open, blinking away the haze clouding my vision. A figure stood in the doorway, and for a moment, terror took over—until I recognized him.

Liam.

He hurried toward me, his face pale, his movements cautious. His eyes darted around like he expected someone to be watching.

"Raelyn—" He sucked in a sharp breath, kneeling beside me. "Oh my God. Rae, can you hear me?" His voice cracked with panic. "Please tell me you're okay."

I tried to speak, but my throat was so dry, so raw, that all that came out was a rasp. The words tasted like rust and regret.

"...Hurts," I managed to croak. My fingers barely twitched as I reached for him. "Make it stop." My voice broke into a desperate whimper. "Please... I'm begging you."

Liam's face twisted with guilt. "Shit." His hands hovered over me like he wanted to help but didn't know how. "I didn't—I didn't know he would take it this far. I swear to you, Rae, I had no idea."

Tears burned in my eyes. "Why?" My voice wavered. "Why are you doing this? I didn't do anything wrong."

Liam flinched, looking away. "I know," he whispered. "I know, Raelyn."

He was lying.

I could feel it in my bones.

But I had no strength to argue. No fight left in me.

Liam exhaled shakily, running a trembling hand through his hair. "Colby's coming. They'll be here in a couple of hours."

Hours.

I swallowed thickly, nausea creeping in. I didn't have hours. I could barely keep my head up, my body wavering between agony and oblivion.

"I don't think I can wait that long," I whispered, my voice breaking into a sob.

Liam reached into a bag and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, his hands shaking as he offered them to me. "Here—put these on." He hesitated. "You shouldn't be in that."

I looked down at myself, at the blood-soaked, tattered remains of what used to be my romper. My stomach turned. The dried stains felt heavier than the bruises beneath them.

With what little strength I had, I forced myself up. My legs buckled immediately, but Liam caught me before I hit the floor. My entire body screamed in protest, my vision blackening at the edges.

I gritted my teeth, refusing to let another whimper slip past my lips. I couldn't let them hear me.

Liam swallowed hard. "I've got you. Just hold on."

He helped me into the clothes, his hands careful but hesitant, like touching me would shatter me completely. Maybe it would.

Once I was dressed, I collapsed back onto the mattress, exhaustion pulling me under. Liam handed me a water bottle and a protein bar. I ate in silence, my stomach twisting as I forced down each bite. The food tasted like cardboard, but I knew I needed it.

"You're gonna be okay," Liam murmured. "Just... hold on, Rae."

I nodded weakly. Not because I believed him—but because I needed him to shut up.

After what felt like an eternity, I faked sleep, listening as Liam sighed, muttered something under his breath, and left the room.

Only when the door clicked shut did I allow the tears to fall.

---

I didn't stay in bed long.

Every inch of me was screaming in protest, but I forced myself to move. Forced myself to stand. Forced myself forward, step by agonizing step.

The hallway was dimly lit, the air stale. My pulse pounded in my ears as I stumbled forward, my hand barely gripping the wall for support.

A door ahead was slightly ajar.

Something inside me knew I shouldn't go in.

But I did.

The second I stepped inside, my heart stopped.

My father lay sprawled across the cold floor, his body still. Too still.

The breath left my lungs in a choked sob.

"Daddy?"

He didn't move.

A strangled scream tore from my throat. I dropped to my knees beside him, my hands shaking violently as I reached for him. He was cold. Stiff.

"NO! NO, NO, NO!" I sobbed, my voice raw. "Daddy, please! Wake up!"

But he wouldn't.

He never would.

A hollow, wrenching pain tore through my chest as I clutched his lifeless hand.

This wasn't happening.

This couldn't be real.

My father—my dad—was gone.

I was still screaming when the sound of footsteps echoed behind me.

Slow. Deliberate.

And then—

A chuckle.

I stiffened.

"Aw, sweetheart." Layne's voice slithered through the room like poison. "What a tragic little scene."

Rage burned through my veins as I whipped around to face him, my tear-streaked face twisted with hatred. "You *monster*."

Layne smiled.

A cruel, twisted thing.

"Oh, Raelyn," he purred, stepping closer. "You really thought you could get away?"

I braced myself, my body trembling with rage and exhaustion. "You killed him." My voice shook. "You killed my father."

Layne tilted his head. "And? What are you gonna do about it?"

Something in me snapped.

I lunged at him with everything I had left—but I was too weak.

He caught me effortlessly, slamming me against the wall so hard my head cracked against it. Stars exploded in my vision.

"Pathetic," he hissed. "Colby's not coming for you, Rae. He's forgotten all about you."

I bared my teeth, my fangs aching to sink into his throat. "Go to hell."

Layne grinned. "You first."

He threw me across the room like I weighed nothing. My body hit the floor with a sickening *thud*, pain exploding through my ribs.

I gasped for air, but Layne was already there, gripping my hair and yanking me up.

"You belong to me," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. "No one's coming to save you."

He threw me down again, kicking me hard in the stomach. My vision blurred, my screams dissolving into ragged sobs.

I could barely hear him laughing as he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

I curled into myself, every breath a fight, my body shaking violently.

The pain didn't matter anymore.

Nothing did.

My father was dead.

And no matter how much I wanted to believe otherwise—

Maybe Layne was right.

Maybe no one was coming to save me.