Twenty Nine

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Jason's point of view.

“Open this fucking door! Open it now!” I yell, another kick against the solid wood door. I barely caught a breath before I kicked again, barely scruffing the surface.

Why wasn't the police here yet?

I could hear her pleas, her desperation begging and then, the heart shattering and blood curling, cry. I froze for a second before punching and kicking harder, ignoring the splinters of pain shooting through my bruising knuckles and aching shins. “Jane!”

Suddenly, the door clicks and the clatter of metal falls to the floor, staining the carpet red. Jane, streaming with tears and blood soaked hands, gaped at me with a ragged breath.

"I didn't mean it."

I barely heard her muffle of words when I spot the unconscious beauty sprawled across the floor. I flung myself to the floor, crying out her name with tears dropping down on top of her pale face.

"Baby." I gasp, cradling her head onto my lap. "Baby, open your eyes. Please, please, open them."

"Oh my God." Jane cries from the corner. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Oh my god."

"What the fuck have you done!"

I pull the blanket from the bottom of our bed, pressing it against the wound that poured beneath the thick hoodie. I could barely see, my eyes thick with tears and my throat restricted of anything else but wails.

Jane grabs handfuls of her hair and slides down the opposite wall, tucking herself into a ball. "I'm so sorry."

"She's never, ever done a bad fucking thing. Why did she deserve this?"

"She didn't." She cries. "She didn't."

"So why the fuck did you do it?" I screech. "Frankie, baby, wake up. Come on baby girl, wake up. You're not allowed to go anywhere, you hear me? No where. Not without me."

"I need to call help." Jane realises.

"They're already coming." I tell her, pressing harder on Frankie's stomach. The grey blanket, dark and wet. I felt like there was a knife driving into me, twisting and turning painfully into my heart. "You hear that babe? Help is coming. You need to hang on."

"I'm sorry."

If I heard that once more seeping from her horrendously twisted mouth, I was fearful of my own actions. I tried to steady my breathing, tried to blink away the tears that were dancing their way down my cheeks, but it seemed impossible.

"Everyone warned me about him." She sniffles. "My friends, even my family. I didn't listen, why didn't I listen?

"What did they warn you about?"

"The fact he was using me." She explains, staring at Frankie's limp body. Where the fuck was the EMTs? "He and I were only hookups throughout high school, right into college and even after it. I thought we were something more - thought he wanted something more."

Wake up Frankie, please.

"He didn't. He's twisted me. Moulded me into something I'm not." She whispered. "I'm not that person. I'm not. And now I've done this."

Frankie.

"I was always jealous of her." She continued. "I was spiteful out of jealousy and now it's caused this."

"Anyone here?"

"In here!" I yell back at the loud voice. "Please, hurry!"

Three emergency medics crashed through the doors with four officers behind them. Jane scrambles to her feet as the guns were drawn onto her, forcing her against the wall, face pinned and tears streaming.

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