Chapter 17 Better Off Dead
Anya entered the bathroom with Alvin's clothes. She threw them next to the bathtub. She ordered the man, "Leave before I…"
She paused looking at his struggle and his plea, "Help me… Help…" He was huffing. His body was flushed, he was struggling to keep his eyes open.
He still had enough strength to have his way with the lady and get rid of the drug from his body. Even so, he didn't do it. He wasn't there to sexually assault her. If not consent to anything, he always chose consensual sex. Thus he was trying to hold his last thread of control before he did something he regrets one day.
Anya's body turned cold after hearing him. He wasn't a man who pleaded with anybody. He never will. Her strong will started to waver looking at his state and recalling the past. She didn't feel sad or pity, she felt a tinge of pain in her chest.
Standing close to the tub, she itched to check his temperature but she didn't dare to touch him. Very next second, she clenched her teeth, her eyes glinted with determination. She has to act quickly, help him and send him out. The faster the riddance of him, the better for her.
"Ambulance!!" She uttered.
What if security doesn't come inside? The hospital staff would take him and leave.
She hurriedly fished her mobile from the pocket and she felt a tug at her skirt. "Don't… Please… Help me…" She could barely make out his words.
She felt uncomfortable with his hand near her leg. With a gasp, she slapped his hand and stood away from Alvin. The hospital was the best choice. She couldn't understand why he was trying to stop her.
She wanted to help him, seeing him struggle but wasn't ready to sacrifice herself for it. He was her love, not anymore.
Suddenly a person came to her mind. She pressed the number 5 on her speed dial and the screen displayed, 'Krystie.' Her best friend.
Krystle changes her boyfriend more than the lipstick collection she had. And her lipsticks collection fills more than two drawers. If Krystle loved somebody, then that's Anya. She could go against anybody if Anya needs her help.
"Annie… Do you wanna join the party?" A loud voice of a girl sounded. There was loud rock music in the background.
Anya went out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her. "He is at my place." She whispered afraid somebody might listen to her.
"Darling, I can't hear you... Wait…" Krystle screamed at the microphone.
Anya waited. Eventually, the music faded away. This time Krystle's voice was low and excited, "Are you coming? Let's party all night." It was always Krystle who brought Anya out, to do something of her age, instead of being a mom all the time.
Anya bit her lips and repeated, "Krystie, he is at my place."
There was a confused hum from Krystle. Then she snorted, "I am going to snap that man's d**k." She assumed he was Kyle.
"Noo…" Her voice was barely audible without knowing how Anya might react to the news.
Krystle sensed the hesitation and took the name in a high pitch of shock, "Alvin Matthews!!" Only Krystle knew who the father of Zane was.
Anya squeezed her eyes and blurted out before Krystle started cursing Alvin while he was suffering in her bathtub. "He is naked, drugged, and lying in my bathtub. He doesn't want me to call the ambulance."
Anya could hear Krystle gritting her teeth. Her friend hated Alvin to her blood and bones because she loved Anya. She scorned, "Obviously, he didn't want to enter the headlines on all newspapers and news channels. Let him die."
Anya's hand trembled hearing 'die.' She stumbled on her words when she asked, "W-will he d-die?"
Krystle was annoyed, sensing Anya's worry. She held back from scolding Anya. She sounded irritated, "If the dosage is high the drug could affect his nervous system. If he doesn't die, he will live more or less like the dead." Then she scoffed in a low voice, "Serves him right."
Anya was taken aback hearing it. She had no idea drugs had such a drastic effect on the body.
'Thud'
Anya jumped at the noise and ran towards the bathroom.
Anya noticed each change in her bathroom. The water jet had fallen, his hand was holding the hem of his cloth. The water inside the tub was splashing. She understood he tried to leave but fell inside.
Krystle stayed silent for a few seconds while hearing the faint noises and groans of the man. She knew Anya admired the man, thankful in her heart for giving her the little gentleman in her life. Anya wouldn't be able to forgive herself if something happens to Alvin.
Sometimes Krystle wished Anya wasn't kind and also focused on the pain she went through because of him. Anya says, 'No pain, no gain.' She feels all her pain was worth having Zane in her life.
She spoke before Anya could say anything, "Annie, could you help him?" She asked in a low relaxing voice.
Anya saw Alvin close to fainting and breathing turn shallow "Yeah, I-I will call for an ambulance."
Before she could hang up on Krystle, she advised, "Okay listen to me, It will take forty minutes for me to reach." If she was nearby, she would have taken care of Alvin for Anya. "You don't have to sleep with him. Help him to release." She knew Anya would never choose to make another mistake.
"Release what?" Anya cluelessly asked, looking at Alvin if he was holding something.
Krystle was momentarily speechless. She forgot, the dumb friend of hers had sex once and got pregnant. She knows nothing about pleasure other than pain.
She curled her fingers into a hollow circle while sitting in her car and moved it up and down. "Hold that stupid thing and Rub rub rub…"
"No." Came the response instantly. She sounded disgusted.
"Then let him die." Krystle hissed in annoyance. "He is better off dead."
Anya was now frustrated to her bones. She could send him to the hospital. What if he was Matthews, she didn't care.
Krystle let out a long sigh. She suggested knowing her friend too well. "Call the ambulance and report to the cops. I am on the way. Don't panic. I won't let that bastard ruin your life again."
Before Anya could respond, Krystle hung up the call. When Anya looked at Alvin, his eyes were shut, he was dead silent and still like a lifeless log.
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