Patient Twelve

Chapter Twenty - Six

I slammed the bathroom door behind me. I was thrown forward as Oliver pushed his shoulder into the door. My feet slid across the tiled floor. I dug my heels into the floor as I pushed my back against the door.

I held out Colin’s phone. The screen was lighting up as it vibrated. The name Quinton Greene flashed across the screen. I answered the phone and held it to my ear.

“Please, you need to call the cops,” I told the caller before he had the chance to speak. “I was kidnapped and he kidnapped your friend.”

Oliver was turning the knob on the door. I grabbed the handle and tried to pull it shut. Oliver was pushing his weight against the door. I couldn’t keep the door closed much longer with only one hand. I hit the speakerphone button with my thumb and dropped the phone on the floor. It bounced and landed beside me. The screen was facing up, and I could see that Quinton had not yet hung up.

“Diana, let me in!” Oliver yelled through the door.

I held onto the doorknob with two hands and leaned back to keep it closed. The muscles in my arms were screaming in pain. My heart was beating so fast that I thought it was going to burst out of my chest.

“My name is Diana Slater,” I yelled out so that Quinton could hear.

“Colin, what is going on?” the voice said.

“He’s been kidnapped!” I yelled. “Call the cops.”

A loud grunt came from the other side of the door. There was a crack as the wood on the frame split. Oliver pushed his way in. His eyes darted down to the phone. He swooped down to grab it, but I kicked it away. The phone slid across the tile. I chased after the phone, but he grabbed a fistful of my hair. He threw me down onto the floor. The air was knocked out of me as he pressed his knee into my abdomen.

“Please.” My chest burned as I struggled to breathe. “You need to call the cops! He is going to kill me!”

“Don’t be silly,” Oliver said. “You’re just having another episode.”

He was still trying to pretend that he was my psychiatrist.

“No! I’m not crazy,” I said.

The pressure on my chest eased as he reached over for the phone. He ended the call, and I grabbed his knee and rolled onto my side. I struggled to get back onto my feet. Oliver wrapped one arm around my neck and pulled me against his chest.

“You really messed up, Kitten,” he growled into my ear.

“Let go of me!” I screamed.

I clawed at Oliver’s arm and gasped for breath. His other arm was around my waist and pushed me forward. I fought against his grip, but he was still able to push me down the hallway. I kicked and screamed. He grunted and tried to hold my hands down with his arm that was around my waist.

He pushed me into the room where Colin was lying on the bed. The monitor was beeping as Colin’s heart maintained a typical rhythm. Oliver dragged me to his bedside. He let go of me. I went to turn, but pain exploded across my face. He had punched me in the nose. He kicked the back of my knee causing me to crumble.

I touched my throbbing nose and my fingers came away bloody. Oliver opened a drawer, and I heard a clang of metal. Something cold was wrapped around my wrist and my arm was jerked to the side. I looked to see he had restrained me to the bed frame. I pulled my arm and the metal dug into my flesh.

Oliver took his thin metal glasses off and ran his hand down his face. He let out a deep breath and paced around the room.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” he said. “You fucked this all up.”

My lips curled into a smile as I let my head roll to the side to rest against the bed frame. This was finally going to be over.

“I should have sold you,” he said. “I should have given you to Dr. Alexander before he found out how difficult you are.”

“It’s too late,” I said. “They’re going to find me.”

Oliver shuddered as I spoke. He turned his back to me and shook his head.

“I’ll have to go upstairs and try to fix this,” he said. “You better hope nothing happens to Colin. I don’t know when I’ll be down again.”

Oliver didn’t turn around before heading up the stairs. I had to shimmy my wrists up the bed so that I could get onto my knees. Colin was still unconscious, but I could see his chest rising and falling with each breath. I fell back against the bed. The muscles in my shoulders were already beginning to ache.

I listened to the beeping of Colin’s heart monitor as I imagined the police barging into the house after tracing the call.

I spent hours sitting on the floor. The sharp pain running up my back and down my legs grew worse with every moment that passed. I closed my eyes and would fall asleep. My eyes fluttered when I heard a groan and then a clang of metal. I jumped off of the floor and turned so that I was facing Colin. I was able to rest my elbows against the mattress. Leaning relieved some of the discomfort in my back.

“Who’s there?” he asked. His voice was hoarse.

He tried to grab the bandages on his face. He fought against the handcuffs. I managed to cover his one hand with mine.

“Diana,” I said. “I am the girl from the cafe.”

“The sick one?” he asked.

“I’m not actually sick,” I said. “The doctor is the sick one.”

“Your eyes,” he said. “They aren’t contacts, are they?”


Colin jerked his wrists as he tried to claw the bandage off of his face. I tried to hold onto his hand, but he pulled away from me. He twisted his back as he tried to rip his hands free. The beeping on the heart monitor picked up.

“He did that to me too, didn’t he?” Colin asked.

“Colin, calm down,” I said.

“You’re fucking crazy,” he said.

“Your friend Quinton called,” I told him. “I answered and told him to call the cops. They must be able to trace the call.”

“He blinded me.”

“But he won’t kill us.”

“I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Colin took in a sharp breath. The glasses were knocked off of my face when Oliver punched me. Colin was fairly blurry, but I believed that I could see a few tears escaping from under the gauze.

“How could I not believe you?” he asked. “I was trying to help you, and this happened to me.”

“Listen, we’re getting out of this,” I said.

Footsteps echoed above us as someone was walking around upstairs. Colin sniffled back a sob. Oliver must have heard the two of us talking and wanted to check on his progress. We listened as he moved around.

The door creaked open. I looked over my shoulder at the blurry figure coming down the stairs. Colin was wiggling against the restraints as his anxiety grew with each audible step. I looked back over to him, and his grip tightened on my hand. I ran my thumb over his knuckles.

“Diana, what happened to your face?”

I whipped my head back around. The blurry figure revealed itself to be Ben instead of Oliver. He had on a dark jacket. The scarf around his neck was loosened. He cupped my face in his hands. He had on a pair of gloves that were soft against my skin.

The pain in my nose had turned to a dull throb. The lower half of my face was caked in dry blood.

“Oliver hit me,” I said. “What are you doing here? Is Bethany talking to Oliver again?”

“He called her and she actually answered,” he said. “She had him on speakerphone, so I heard it all. He was crying, and it was difficult to tell what he was saying. All I understood was that you called someone and that he was afraid that the cops would come.”

“The cops are coming?”

“I’m not sure, but I always promised you that we would get out of this together.”

Colin’s handcuffs clanged against the bed railing. Ben’s eyes darted up to the bed. He took his hands off of my face. His eyes were locked on Colin’s body as he stood up.

“Who is this?” he asked.

“Colin,” I said. “Oliver kidnapped him and performed surgery on him.”

“Please.” Colin pulled his wrists again. “Please, get me out of here.”

“Did Bethany come here with you?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “She is not coming.”

I furrowed my brows at him. His jaw was clenched and he curled his fingers in and out of a fist.

“Why didn’t you go to the police station?” I asked. “You know that they are looking for us.”

“Because I told you that the two of us would get out of this together,” he said.

Ben reached forward and grabbed the pillow and pulled it out from under Colin’s head. He forced the pillow down over Colin’s face. Colin thrashed under Ben’s grip. His arms and legs flailed as he tried to push Ben off of him. The beeping from the heart monitor became quicker.

“What are you doing?” I screamed.

I kicked my leg out and hit his shin. Ben’s grip on the pillow loosened for a second before taking a step back and continuing to smother Colin. I tried to kick Ben off of him, but I could no longer reach him.

It seemed like forever passed before Colin stopped moving. The tears were streaming down my cheeks as I kept trying to kick Ben. I stopped kicking when I heard Colin’s heart monitor stop beeping.

Ben eased up off of Colin’s body. He tucked the pillow behind his head. He walked over to the sink and wet some paper towels. He got down on his knees in front of me. He dabbed my face with the paper towel to wash off the dried blood. I tried to pull away from him.

“You killed him,” I said. “Why did you do that?”

“I had to,” he said. “He would have ruined my plan.”

“Your plan for what?”

“For getting us out of here.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. Ben tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and pressed his lips against my forehead. I went to push him away, but the metal dug into my skin. Ben leaned back and I could see a smirk on his lips.

“We need to find the keys,” he said.

Ben got up off of his knees. He pulled open the doors to the cupboards and pulled out bottles. I didn’t notice that he had a backpack sitting on the counter until he started filling it with medication.

“Ben, what is going on?” I asked.

“I already told you that I am getting us out of here,” he said. “We need to get out of here before the cops come. Well…if the cops come.”

The door opened and the stairs creaked as Oliver walked down. Ben spun around. I squinted to see the handle of a gun sticking out from the waistband of his jeans. His hand hovered over the gun.

“Benjamin,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

Ben pulled the gun out from his waistband and pointed it at Oliver. He held up his hands and took a step back. Ben cocked the gun.

“Get down on your knees,” Ben said.

“What are you doing?” Oliver asked as he lowered himself down onto the floor.

“Where are the keys to the handcuffs?”

“In my pocket.”

“Slide them across the floor to me.”

Oliver reached into his pocket and set the keys down on the floor. He slid them across the floor and Ben stomped on them with his shoe.

“Do you have medication anywhere other than down here?” Ben asked.

Oliver shook his head.

“Good,” Ben said. “We’re finished with you.”

My ears rang when Ben fired the gun. Oliver’s lifeless body fell to the side and laid in a pool of his own blood.

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