She Needed My Blood, But I Needed Revenge - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
You are reading She Needed My Blood, But I Needed Revenge, Chapter 4: Chapter 4. Read more chapters of She Needed My Blood, But I Needed Revenge.
"She's been discharged," Gabriel announced, looming over my bed like some judgmental shadow. "Nadia's staying with us. She needs looking after."
I barely had the strength to lift my head from the pillow. My body felt like dead weight—drained, weak, hollowed out. The abortion had left me wrecked. Anyone with half a brain could see I needed rest, but Gabriel? He couldn't be bothered to notice.
"I'm not okay," I rasped, my voice cracking. "Gabriel, I can barely move."
"She's your best friend," he snapped, eyes narrowing. "The least you could do is help take care of her. She's been through hell."
So have I. The words burned in my throat but never made it out. Gabriel didn't actually care about my pain—he just liked pretending he did. The mask had slipped, and now I saw him for what he really was.
"Get up," he ordered, yanking the blanket off me in one impatient motion. "She hasn't eaten all day. Make her something."
I clenched my jaw and forced myself upright, muscles screaming in protest. My hands shook as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, but Gabriel didn't notice. Or worse—he didn't care. That stung more than anything.
"It's okay, Gabriel." Nadia's saccharine voice floated in from the living room. "I don't want to be a burden. If Amanda doesn't want me here, I can go."
"She never said that," Gabriel shot back, glaring daggers at me. "Amanda, tell her she's welcome. She's your best friend, for Christ's sake. Or are you really that selfish?"
I swallowed the venomous reply on my tongue. What was the point? Gabriel had already decided I was the villain in this story.
"I'll cook," I muttered, wobbling to my feet.
Gabriel nodded, smug, like I'd just proven him right.
Nadia beamed. "Aww, thank you so much, bestie!" She pulled me into a hug, her smile dripping with fake sweetness.
"Sure. Go rest," I said flatly.
The kitchen might as well have been a prison cell. Every movement sent fresh waves of pain through me, but I pushed through—no way was I giving Gabriel the satisfaction of seeing me break.
Then I heard them.
Their murmurs turned breathy, then unmistakable—the rhythmic sounds of skin on skin, muffled moans seeping through the bedroom door. They didn't even bother keeping quiet.
My knife clattered against the counter. Bile rose in my throat as their noises grew louder, more urgent. I forced my hands to steady, stirring the soup like my life depended on it. I wouldn't break. Not yet.
When the food was ready, my gaze landed on the chili leaves by the stove. A bitter smile twisted my lips.
Nadia was deathly allergic to chili.
I shredded a handful into her bowl, stirring until the leaves vanished into the broth. Let's see how perfect you are now.
They were too busy fucking to notice me slipping out. I grabbed my pre-packed backpack and made quick work of Gabriel's safe, taking every last bill inside. He'd never let me work after graduation—this was his money, but right now, it was my ticket out.
I sank onto the bed, staring blankly at the wall as the day replayed in my head—the abortion, Gabriel's demands, their betrayal echoing through the apartment like some sick soundtrack.
My phone buzzed. Gabriel's name flashed across the screen, followed by a barrage of furious texts:
"What the hell did you put in that food?"
"Nadia's in the hospital!"
"She's coding, Amanda! ANSWER ME!"
I stared at the screen, chest tight—until I remembered his cold dismissal, his accusations, the way he'd fucked her while I cooked their damn meal.
The airline website loaded slowly on my phone.
I barely had the strength to lift my head from the pillow. My body felt like dead weight—drained, weak, hollowed out. The abortion had left me wrecked. Anyone with half a brain could see I needed rest, but Gabriel? He couldn't be bothered to notice.
"I'm not okay," I rasped, my voice cracking. "Gabriel, I can barely move."
"She's your best friend," he snapped, eyes narrowing. "The least you could do is help take care of her. She's been through hell."
So have I. The words burned in my throat but never made it out. Gabriel didn't actually care about my pain—he just liked pretending he did. The mask had slipped, and now I saw him for what he really was.
"Get up," he ordered, yanking the blanket off me in one impatient motion. "She hasn't eaten all day. Make her something."
I clenched my jaw and forced myself upright, muscles screaming in protest. My hands shook as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, but Gabriel didn't notice. Or worse—he didn't care. That stung more than anything.
"It's okay, Gabriel." Nadia's saccharine voice floated in from the living room. "I don't want to be a burden. If Amanda doesn't want me here, I can go."
"She never said that," Gabriel shot back, glaring daggers at me. "Amanda, tell her she's welcome. She's your best friend, for Christ's sake. Or are you really that selfish?"
I swallowed the venomous reply on my tongue. What was the point? Gabriel had already decided I was the villain in this story.
"I'll cook," I muttered, wobbling to my feet.
Gabriel nodded, smug, like I'd just proven him right.
Nadia beamed. "Aww, thank you so much, bestie!" She pulled me into a hug, her smile dripping with fake sweetness.
"Sure. Go rest," I said flatly.
The kitchen might as well have been a prison cell. Every movement sent fresh waves of pain through me, but I pushed through—no way was I giving Gabriel the satisfaction of seeing me break.
Then I heard them.
Their murmurs turned breathy, then unmistakable—the rhythmic sounds of skin on skin, muffled moans seeping through the bedroom door. They didn't even bother keeping quiet.
My knife clattered against the counter. Bile rose in my throat as their noises grew louder, more urgent. I forced my hands to steady, stirring the soup like my life depended on it. I wouldn't break. Not yet.
When the food was ready, my gaze landed on the chili leaves by the stove. A bitter smile twisted my lips.
Nadia was deathly allergic to chili.
I shredded a handful into her bowl, stirring until the leaves vanished into the broth. Let's see how perfect you are now.
They were too busy fucking to notice me slipping out. I grabbed my pre-packed backpack and made quick work of Gabriel's safe, taking every last bill inside. He'd never let me work after graduation—this was his money, but right now, it was my ticket out.
I sank onto the bed, staring blankly at the wall as the day replayed in my head—the abortion, Gabriel's demands, their betrayal echoing through the apartment like some sick soundtrack.
My phone buzzed. Gabriel's name flashed across the screen, followed by a barrage of furious texts:
"What the hell did you put in that food?"
"Nadia's in the hospital!"
"She's coding, Amanda! ANSWER ME!"
I stared at the screen, chest tight—until I remembered his cold dismissal, his accusations, the way he'd fucked her while I cooked their damn meal.
The airline website loaded slowly on my phone.
End of She Needed My Blood, But I Needed Revenge Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to She Needed My Blood, But I Needed Revenge book page.