Chapter 8 - The Shattered Lifeline
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Through the haze of blinding pain and sheer, paralyzing terror, my maternal survival instincts finally kicked in. I couldn't rely on the monsters standing above me. If I wanted to save my son's life, I had to save myself.
I dragged my heavy, agonizing body a few inches across the floor, gritting my teeth against the pain. My eyes locked onto the kitchen island above me. My cell phone was resting on the marble surface, right where I had left it when I first walked in.
"I need..." I gasped, grinding my teeth as another brutal contraction ripped through my stomach. "I need to call 911."
I reached my bloody, trembling hand up toward the edge of the counter, my fingertips just brushing the cold metal casing of the phone.
But Carter’s hand got there first.
He snatched the phone off the counter with a vicious, lightning-fast swipe. He didn't just take it away from me; he raised it high above his head and hurled it directly across the kitchen with all his strength.
The device hit the heavy oak pantry door and crashed violently down onto the hardwood floor. The screen shattered instantly, a massive spiderweb of deep cracks spreading across the glass, the screen flickering once before going completely, terrifyingly dark.
"You aren't calling a damn soul," Carter hissed, his voice dropping to a dangerous, threatening octave. "You are not bringing the police into my house to ruin my reputation over a clumsy accident."
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I stared at the broken pieces of glass scattered across the floor, my only lifeline to the outside world completely severed.
Mrs. Eleanor folded her arms, her voice drifting in from the dining room. "If she loses the baby, it is entirely because she doesn't know how to take care of herself. Don't let her blame us for this later, Carter."
