Her Only Hero

Chapter 5

"What have you done?!" Her hand flies towards me. I try to block the strike but with my late reaction, I'm forced to take the hit on my upper arm. "Why the bloody hell would you do that?!" She goes in for another hit, but I'm able to dodge it this time by stepping backwards.

"Misty needs you!" I take a step forward, but stay alert for another swing that could come my way.

"There's nothing I can do," she says.

"Call! The! Cops! Find Nathan! Anything more than watching TV would be great." My voice rips at my throat.

She shakes her head. "What would the cops do?"

"More than you!"

"She'll be fine!" She waves her hand at me. "We don't need to call the cops. I'm sure she'll come home later when she's done running around the town."

"You don't have to trust the cops, just call them." I hiss my words through my clenched teeth. "They won't find whatever you've stolen. They'll find her." Misty should be more important to her than her secret stash.

"Stop telling me what to do!" Her smoke drifts into my face, swirling in front of my vision, and getting on my nerves.

"I will, when you do something to get Misty back."

She moves her face closer to mine, spitting her words at me. "Why don't you do something?"

"That's not my job." Fed up with the smoke wafting between us, I snatch her cigarette out of her fingers. "You're the mother!" I throw it on the ground. "Act like one!" Stomping my foot down on it snuffs the embers out and puts an end to the continuous line of smoke.

She looks down at it and when she looks up at me again, her eyes darken; fire raging behind her expression. "Get out!" She thrusts the heel of her hands into my chest, shoving me out the door. "Get out of the house! If you want her, go find her!"

Fighting back, I do what I can to stop her, but I'm only able to get her off me when I step out of the room. I jump forward to keep her from slamming the door shut. She pushes against it and I do the same, but with the door almost closed, she has the upper hand. As it closes, I have to rip my fingers away before they can get crushed.

The door shuts and I hear the lock click. I'm left standing in the unused dining area. Alone, listening to my pounding heart and harsh breathing. I spin around, taking in my surroundings.

What would have caused this? Was it—what's-his-name—Nathan? Or did Misty do all this? Why would she throw—

An icy cold hand grips my heart. Tingles crawl over my scalp, spilling down to my shoulders, racing through my spine. What—what did he do to her? To make her—She was left alone—left alone with him. He could have done anything. Did he try to hurt her? Why else would she trash the house and throw things, if not to defend herself?

Why would he take her? Why—What would make him want her? A thought pops into my head, tying my stomach into knots. He wouldn't—he couldn't—please—please not for any sexual reason—or—or—What if he's dangerous? He could kill her.

My stomach swirls. A burning liquid rises in my throat. I rush to the kitchen sink, but by the time I make it there, the bile had sunk back down. The bitter taste remains on my tongue, and I hold my mouth under the running tap to wash it out.

With my hands on the edge of the counter holding me up, I stare between the disgusting yellow curtains either side of the small window. I'm not focused on anything in particular: I'm lost in thought.

I need to get her back. She's probably in serious trouble with him. I can't—I won't just leave her with him, like Mum plans to. I have to get her back.