Chapter 2A Lifetime Debt

At the mention of my brother, my hand, which had begun to rise in protest, fell uselessly to my side. He was my weakness, and the most convenient chain for Damian to bind me with.

I pulled out the IV needle from the back of my hand; blood immediately surged back, dripping onto the pale bedsheet. A nurse entered and gasped at the sight. “Ms. Blackwell, are you crazy? You just had twelve stitches. You can’t move like that.”

“It’s fine.” I clutched my abdomen, my face ashen, my forehead slick with cold sweat. “I won’t die.”

I shuffled, step by agonizing step, to the blood donation room. Julian sat comfortably on the VIP bed, her face rosy, showing no sign of being startled whatsoever. Seeing me enter, she dramatically clutched her chest, shrinking further into Damian’s embrace. “Uncle Damian, my sister’s face is so scary, like a ghost. I’m scared.”

Damian gently patted her back. When he turned to me, his gaze instantly sharpened into a blade. “Still standing there like a statue? Get over here.”

I gritted my teeth and sat down in the phlebotomy chair. The nurse, seeing the blood seeping through my abdominal bandage, hesitated to insert the needle. “Mr. Wren, the patient’s condition is extremely poor. She’s lost a lot of blood. If we draw another 400cc now, she might go into shock.”

“Draw it.” Damian didn't even lift an eyelid, instead peeling a grape and feeding it to Julian. “She’s tough. She won’t die. Before, she used to drink until her stomach bled just for money and still went to work the next day. This little bit of blood is nothing.”

The nurse dared not disobey. She sighed and inserted the thick needle into my slender vein. Blood slowly flowed out. I watched the red liquid travel through the tube into the blood bag, feeling my life force drain away, little by little. Dizziness washed over me, my vision blurring at the edges.

Meanwhile, the two across from me were flirting. “Uncle Damian, is my sister angry? It was ten dollars, after all, and you said those things about her.” Julian’s sugary voice drifted over.

“Angry about what?” Damian scoffed, his voice low but clear enough to pierce my ears. “When she sold herself to me, she was much cheaper than this. Ten dollars? That was an insult to her. You’re just kind, calling her sister. A woman who sells her body for money isn’t even fit to tie your shoes.”

My heart felt as if it were being repeatedly sliced by a rusty, blunt knife. I closed my eyes, unwilling to see, unwilling to hear.

400cc.

It was finally done. The moment the nurse pulled out the needle, I collapsed, utterly drained.

“Alright, stop faking it.” Damian’s impatient voice cut through. He walked over and nudged my leg with his foot. “Julian wants the porridge from that place in Southside. Go get it. Remember, it has to be hot. If it’s cold, you can swallow it yourself.”

Southside? We were in Northside. A round trip would take at least two hours. Outside, it was pouring rain. I had just donated blood, and I had a knife wound in my abdomen.

“Damian, I can’t move.” I spoke weakly, trying to appeal to even a sliver of his humanity.

“If you can’t walk, crawl.” Damian looked down at me, pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet, and tossed it at my face. The red bill fluttered, eventually landing on the dusty floor. “The rest is your tip. Enough to buy medicine, isn’t it, Eliza, you gold digger?”

Julian giggled from the bed. “Sister, that’s a lot of trouble for you, isn’t it? Remember to add extra sugar.”

I looked at the money on the floor, then at Damian’s cold face. In that moment, I finally understood. In this man’s heart, I was never human. Just an object to be summoned and dismissed, trampled upon at will, as long as money was involved.

I bent down, picking up the money. The movement pulled at my wound, making my whole body tremble.

“Okay.” I whispered. “I’ll go buy it.”

Damian, this is the last time I run an errand for you. Truly.