Kylie Bray (Love, Hate and Billions)

Chapter 41 (Kylie)

My guard Andrew is off tonight so I have the beams on in case some clever person tries to break in.

I move through the kitchen door and down my long wide passage and into the entrance hall. I key in my

alarm code, putting off the beams, and switch on the outside lights.

Opening my door, I wait patiently in my dirty clothes for my friend. A minute or two passes and I don't

see her red car, or lights coming up my driveway which is weird.

After a few more minutes, I frown and close the door, going back into my kitchen.

Picking up my plate of food, I sit on the other side of my centered counter, my feet dangling off the

edge.

The intercom ring just as I shove a prawn in my mouth, huffing in annoyance I jump down the counter

and go to the intercom, I press the answer button this time,

“Who is there?”

I wait to hear something, total silence on the other end greets me.

“Whoever the fuck you are don't waste my time.” I snap because it must be some bored person playing

a prank, well attempting to.

There is a crackle, and two distinctive words, from a very familiar voice, comes through,

“Help me.”

My eyes widen in shock.

I don't think about it, I fucking run through my house out the door, and sprint to my gate. When I get to

my driveway, I see her.

Her hands are gripping the metal bars like a lifeline.

I rush to her, only now I realize that I don't have keys to open.

“Hang in there, I'm coming,” I tell her.

I rush toward one of my cars, parked outside, open the door and grab the remote.

My fingers press the button. Leaving the car door open, I rush back to the woman that has been

missing for so long.

She falls to the floor, crawling as the gates open. I get to her and bend down helping her up, she's so

light, so frail.

Her legs threatened to give out.

I touch her ribs, causing her to groan in pain.

Long hair falling in knotted pieces blocks her face as her head hangs from weakness.

It takes me ten minutes to get to the house, half dragging her, half carrying her.

I push the door open with my leg and we both almost fall to the floor.

Holding the door to keep us up, I right myself, holding her tight.

Taking her to the kitchen takes a lifetime.

Once I’m here, with my free hand I swipe everything off the counter, glasses falling to the floor, along

with all the mess.

With a strength of will, I lift her onto the counter. Finally staring at the woman who is but a mystery. The

one who disappeared months ago.

I stare into the beaten and battered face of Beggar. Her eyes are swollen, her face messed with dirt

and dried blood.

I push her hair back as her black pools open and close.

“Help me,” Her dry voice says again.

I see it, before she shows it, the shock collar around her neck, the wet blood stains on her stomach.

My hands start to shake. I look around me in a frenzy and spot the knife not too far from my foot. I pick

it up and take the gray t-shirt in my hand cutting through the tattered material with the knife.

Beggar moans. Her teeth jitters.

Her stomach is riddled with cuts, bruises, blood, so much blood. There are two clean shots, one

bleeding heavily close to her ribs, the other below her hip bone.

I take the dirty t-shirt applying pressure on the wound. Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

“We need to get you to the hospital,” I tell her but it comes out as a shout.

She shakes her head,

“Deno.”

Her body racks up in a small fit and I hold her down by the shoulders trying to prevent her from falling.

When she finally stops, blood is pooling from her mouth.

Running to the nearest phone which is near my sink, I dial the one person I can right now.

“Hello, so you finally called,” Vincent says.

“Get Deno, tell him I have Beggar, she's shot, she's bleeding, there's blood coming out of her mouth, I

don't know what to do.”

My words are coming fast and rushed. I am starting to freak out.

“Fuck,” he screams, “We on our way, keep pressure on the wound, and her head to the side.”

I drop the phone to the floor rushing back to Beggar. I tilt her head to the side and apply pressure.

Not sure how much time passes, or how I am actually doing this and remaining sane when I got an

almost dead woman on my kitchen counter bleeding to death.

The intercom buzzes and I run to press the button, then rush back to Beggar. She is sweating, her

body shaking, turning blue.

It isn't long when Vincent and Deno run into my kitchen. Vincent grabs me from the back wrapping me

in his arms as Deno takes over with Beggar.

Another man rushes in with a silver briefcase who I presume and hope is a doctor.

“Vincent, get her out of here.” Deno orders.

And it is only then I realize I am actually screaming. Vincent lifts me up in a bridal position, my arms

wrapping tightly around his neck, I feel a sting in my arm before everything just goes blank.