Cut!

Take 35 - One Thing - Part 1

A/N: Comment as you read, yeah? Spam me with your thoughts. It would make me happy. 

When I woke up again, I recognized the room almost instantly. The white curtains, waving in the wind from an open window, the white walls, and the annoying sound of medical equipment beeping as if they were getting paid for it.

The bed was also extremely uncomfortable.

“Thank god, Cami,” a voice said. “You’re awake.”

I didn’t get to collect my thoughts before I was ruthlessly assaulted with a ginormous hug that threatened to crush my ribs. Looking down, all I could see was a lump of brown hair, stashed on top of someone’s head.

“Ludmilla?” I asked, groaning.

I raised my hand, but something held me back, looking over, I noticed an IV hooked to my hand, and I frowned at the sight. I hadn’t been that wounded.

“What’s happening?” I tried to push Ludmilla lightly in order to breathe properly again. She sat up straight with a worried look on her face.

“Don’t you remember?” she asked.

I stared at the tube hooked to my arm. “I don’t remember anything that would need this kind of medical treatment.”

“Oh,” Ludmilla said. “That’s because of the sedative. The paramedics had to give you something to calm you down because you were kicking and screaming. You had a bad reaction to it and was out for the greater part of the day.”

“What day is it?”

“Sunday…”

The concert had been Thursday evening. I’d lost three days. “Max said I’d only been out a few hours. It doesn’t add up.”

“Don’t mention that bastard’s name in my presence,” Ludmilla groaned. “He and his brother are behind bars now—they’ll get what they deserve.”

I struggled to make any sense of what was happening. “How are you here?”

“I was already on a plane to Milan for the big reveal Friday. At first, they wanted to postpone when you didn’t show, but I knew something was wrong—you never miss a deadline. I sat down with Mr. Larsson and Steven and demanded that the press reveal should include a search for you.” She stroked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “If they didn’t, I would have breached the contract in a heartbeat.”

I leaned back on the pillow, feeling exhausted. Closing my eyes, I tried to recall everything. We’d been running and Harry—Harry had been shot.

Jerking up, I didn’t care if I unhooked any of the tubes. “Where’s Harry? Is he okay?”

“Easy there, tiger.” Ludmilla pushed me back. “Last I heard he’d been transferred from intensive in a stable condition.”

Stable condition… I breathed a sigh of relief.

“I need to see him,” I muttered and attempted to pull the IV out of my hand.

“No, Cami.” Ludmilla reached out and placed a hand over mine. “You’re not well. Stay here.”

“I’m freaking dandy.” I sneered, my lips coiling back.

“You’re such a diva.” She rolled her eyes. “Stay.”

Turning my head, I stared at the ceiling and sighed. “I’m sorry, Ludmilla. I messed up.”

“No you didn’t—I did.” Shaking her head, she reached out and gently turned me to face her. “I should never have suggested this. I shouldn’t have placed you in this kind of danger.”

I looked into her brown eyes. It was like stared at a less bruised version of myself. I could see unshed tears in her eyes, and she sniffled slightly. “Oh, sis,” I muttered and opened my arms, hugging her tight.

“I was so scared,” I admitted.

She sobbed. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through.”

“Do you know of it?” I pulled back, meeting her eyes.

She nodded, sniffing once more. “Jamie—the younger one. He told the police everything.”

I thought of the man I’d met at the airport. Back in the basement of that building, I hadn’t been able to recognize him at all. Not until he gave me the knife. “He saved my life—we only got out of there because of him.”

“Doesn’t excuse what he did, though.” Ludmilla clenched her fists. “I hope they both rot in hell. And from what the police said: they will.”

“Did you see him?”

“I tried—I wanted to see the monsters who did this to you, but the police wouldn’t let me.”

“I don’t think Jamie wanted to hurt me—not really.” I pressed the button on a small remote control, making the bed rise up. “I saw something before we escaped.”

“What do you mean?” She frowned.

“He had these scars on his collarbone. It seemed fatal.” I shook my head, trying to remember clearly. “And the way Max treated him—he was like a wounded lapdog.”

“You shouldn’t think about it anymore—they’re both out of our lives forever.”

I didn’t reply. There was no arguing that it was nice to stop worrying about them for a chance, but at the same time, I couldn’t stop thinking that I owed Jamie my life. If he hadn’t changed his mind, I wouldn’t be here right now.

My legs ached, and I remembered when Max had poured hydrogen peroxide over my scrape wounds. Would they heal properly? Or would I be scarred forever now?

I was so tired. “What happens next?” I asked as I closed my eyes.

“Well…” I felt the bed move as Ludmilla stood up. Her heels clacked against the floor. “Once you’re clear to go, there’s some formal stuff we need to go over with the police. And then we can go home.”

“Home?” I snorted. “Where’s that?”

“In New York.”

My eyes shot open. “What?”

“After the media storm these past days,” she said with a smile. “I was contacted by a representative from Gillian’s. You got in.”

“No, way.” I gaped at her.

“Yes, way.” She laughed. “Apparently, there’s an extra clause or something for celebrity students.”

I frowned. “I’m not a celebrity, though.”

Ludmilla picked up her phone, searching for something. “You are now,” she said and held up the screen.

On it, I could see trending topics all over the internet. Camilla Hanson was the most discussed topic online. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Taking the phone, I scrolled through it, seeing supporting comments on every site.

And then I saw a picture of Harry, and my heart broke into pieces.

 A/N: Give a vote, maybe?