Page 135 of Delirium
“I’m done listening to your bullshit,” she said, moving away from me. “It’s time to get this over with.”
Fuck, I needed to stall, to get them talking. I had no doubt in my mind that Storm and the gang were already looking for me, but they definitely needed time. I had no idea how long I’d been out, and I had no idea where we were.
“Where are we?” I asked, looking at Tristan. “If you’re going to kill me, I at least deserve to know where we and and where my last resting place will be.”
“Hangars,” he answered almost immediately, guilt lacing his features. “But they’re not coming, Ophelia. They think we’re outside of Santa Monica.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“It’s been hours since we picked you up. They’re not coming,” he answered sadly.
“Stop talking to her,” Ava barked, dragging with her a man in a white coat like doctors wore. “We’re getting my kids out of her. They’ve been there long enough.”
“No, ma’am.” The doctor pulled away from her. “I can’t do this. Please.”
“It’s this or your family, Doc,” Ava sneered. “It’s your choice.”
I knew she had him where she wanted him. There was no way this man would choose me over his family. If I were in the same spot, I would do the same.
“I can’t,” he wailed. “We don’t have proper instruments, nothing to do this with.”
“Yes, we do,” Ava said, pointing at something on the other side of the room that I couldn’t see. “There are your instruments. We took them from your office. Now you can do it.”
The doctor looked at me, his eyes seeking forgiveness I couldn’t give. No matter how much I understood that he needed to do this, I couldn’t forgive. They wanted to take my kids away from me, and I couldn’t condone that.
“How far along are you?” he asked, slowly stepping closer to me, his eyes flickering between my face and my stomach.
“Eight months,” I murmured, refusing to look at him. “My due date is in two weeks,” I added, keeping my voice even. I refused to give them the satisfaction of me breaking apart, even though every single nerve in my body screamed at me, rebelling against the thought of losing our kids.
They weren’t ready. I wasn’t ready, and both the doctor and I knew this.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. I turned to the side, finally looking at him. He was sorry, I could see that. He was scared for himself, for me, probably for his family as well.
“Don’t hurt them,” I said. “Please don’t hurt them. I don’t care about me but tell me that you know what you’re doing.”
“I do.” He nodded. “But I have to… They have—”
“I know,” I interrupted. “I understand. Just, don’t hurt them.”
“Chop-chop,” Ava pushed on. “We don’t have the whole night.”
With one last look at me, the doctor walked toward the other side of the room, where I assumed his instruments were laid out. I couldn’t watch, didn’t want to count the minutes until he would do it. He said, “There’s no anesthesia.”
“I know.” Ava cackled, looking at him. “Oops.” She grinned at me. “We forgot to bring it.”
Motherfucking bitch.
“I can’t do it,” the doctor said. “I can’t. No, I cannot.”
“Then your kids are going to die.” She shrugged. “You either do it or you don’t. If you don’t, I’ll just cut through her and pull those kids out myself.”
“You could kill them,” he grunted.
“Then you do it.” She chuckled, as if all of this was just a game for her. “Either way, she’s dying today. I don’t give a fuck how.”
“You… I can’t… I… Fuck…” And there it was, the doctor relenting. “God will never forgive you for this.”
“I don’t care,” she answered. “I will at least have everything I ever wanted.” She looked at me. “Ophelia Aster dead, and my kids with me.”
