Avery (The Phoenix Club Girl Diaries #3) - Addison Jane Page 0,76

or when you got your first speeding ticket.

Only, it didn’t begin to calm.

It kept building.

My breathing building with it.

“That’s a good girl. Now, look up at me.” The voice, it sounded so far away. Like it was calling to me through a thick fog.

I managed to crack one eye open just a little, but everything was so bright, it made my entire body shudder, and I quickly squeezed them tight again. I wanted to rub at my eyes, try and get them to adjust, but every time I tried, nothing happened. My arms wouldn’t lift. It was like they were weighted down. Tied down, maybe?

My heart continued to race.

No matter what I did, it wouldn’t stop, it wouldn’t slow.

I forced my eyes open again, this time, the both of them flickering slowly. Little by little, I fought against the brightness, the light, the white ceiling, the white walls. Everything so damn white. “Wha…”

My stomach churned.

Don’t be sick.

Please don’t be sick.

You can’t get up.

“Avery, it’s so nice to see you again,” a deep voice murmured, a man in scrubs stepping into my vision and drawing up a chair beside me. He was pulling on a pair of gloves. Blue ones. He reached up with them, tugging the white facemask from his face, the sadistic grin behind it one I knew instantly.

Garrett Drake.

No.

Please, no.

Someone, please help me.

I couldn’t turn my head, just move my eyes. My heart at this point was racing so fucking fast like a horse around a track, pounding hard into the ground, searching for that finish line. Though, I was pretty sure if I didn’t get it to slow down soon, my finish line was going to be it exploding into a million pieces.

Garrett leaned in, so his face was directly above mine. “Sorry about forcing you to destroy your car earlier. I needed a way to get you here.”

It was him.

He’d forced me off the road.

I struggled to keep my eyes open, my heart racing internally, but my body feeling like it was exhausted. Frozen. It was like one of those bad dreams—those nightmares where you want to run, but your legs simply refuse to move. Only I knew this wasn’t a dream.

The smell of hospital cleaner had hit my senses, and when the asshole reached out, brushing my hair back from my face and tucking it gently behind my ear, I wanted to scream.

My fingers.

They moved.

The muscle in my arm twitching, making Garrett pull back suddenly with a grin. “You know what, I thought you were all tough talk...” He chuckled softly, reaching behind him for something. I kept fighting with that one limb, sweat collecting across my brow as I fought to lift it from the bed. I felt it rise as he scooted his chair back, flicking the needle he was holding.

A soft sob fell from my lips, and I felt warm tears slide down the side of my face.

“Hopefully, I can get this balance right,” he said slowly but loudly like he wasn’t about to inject my already highly alive body with something new. “Adrenaline to make your heart race, and this little beauty to make your body completely numb. Means you just have to lay there, helpless, while your heart feels like it’s about to explode into tiny little pieces.”

I wanted to yell.

Scream.

Plead for help.

I was in a hospital, so there had to be other people. But as he forced the needle into my arm, it was like someone placing a large rock on my body, so fucking heavy it felt like it was pushing me down into the bed and through the floor below.

“This really is unfortunate,” Garrett rambled, looking down at me with a gentle smile. “I did warn Shotgun. He knew better, knew not to fuck around with my world. A world I have fought so hard to fucking create.” The anger cracked in his voice, and he quickly cleared his throat, forcing a smile again despite the way a soft red flush of anger crept up his neck.

“An eye for an eye, that’s what I believe,” he began, getting to his feet and pulling a white sheet from a drawer behind him. He shook it out, letting it float through the air and land over my body. There was a couple of clicks, the bed jiggling and moving, making me realize just what he was doing.

He’d taken the brakes off.

He was moving me.

“Shotgun took my wife, he took my job, my home, my money. Everything I worked a