Chapter 2 Bad luck or just unlucky

Time passed swiftly. Weeks of therapy had brought significant progress to my body's recovery. At almost twenty-one years old, I was determined to bounce back from the setbacks I had faced. Unfortunately, the days I took off from work had led to the loss of my only source of income. Bills piled up, and the absence of insurance only added to my worries. It seemed as though the storm of misfortune was not yet finished with me, as I soon found myself without a place to call home.

The weight of this unfortunate event crushed me, and tears of frustration and despair streamed down my face. I couldn't comprehend why life had to be so relentlessly difficult. In my moment of despair, I reached out to Sasha, sharing my troubles in hopes of finding some solace. Kind-hearted as she was, Sasha offered me shelter in her own home until I could regain stability.

Observing my distress, Sasha shook her head dismissively, unable to fathom why the police would cover up the hit-and-run incident that had nearly claimed my life. She bombarded me with questions, seeking clarity about this unfortunate circumstance. I, too, desperately longed for answers.

"I didn't see anything, Sasha," I replied, my brow furrowing at her assumption.

My memory of that fateful night when I left the Mystic Lounge and headed home was clouded by the head injuries I had sustained. The fragments of recollection I managed to piece together were hazy, fading into a blur as I fell into a deep sleep.

The piercing sound of the alarm jolted me awake, but I couldn't summon the energy to rise from bed. With a careless swipe of my hand, I knocked the alarm to the floor, paying no mind to its fate.

The aroma of breakfast drifting into my room invigorated me, realizing that I hadn't eaten a proper meal since the previous day's lunch. Joining Sasha at the breakfast table, I caught her discreetly glancing at me.

"So, what do you think we should do today?" she asked playfully.

For a moment, I pondered her question, my mind locking onto a single objective. I was resolute in uncovering the truth about the person who had nearly taken my life with their reckless act behind the wheel.

I looked down at the note, my hands trembling as I unfolded it. The words written on the paper sent a shiver down my spine.

"Let it go. Stop digging. It's for your own safety."

Confusion flooded my mind. Why would Detective Johnson warn me to stop investigating? What was he trying to protect me from? The questions piled up in my head, fueling my determination to uncover the truth.

But deep down, I knew there was something more to this case, something dangerous. Detective Johnson's warning echoed in my thoughts, creating doubt and fear. Perhaps he had a valid reason for trying to discourage me from digging deeper.

I glanced over at Sasha, who sat anxiously beside me, her eyes filled with worry. She had been my rock throughout this entire ordeal, urging me to find out the truth but also fearing what it could unveil.

Taking a deep breath, I made a decision. I would not let fear control me. If the police weren't going to investigate, then I would. I would continue to search for answers, no matter the risks involved.

Leaving the police station, my mind racing with thoughts and possibilities, I realized that I had entered a dangerous game. There were powerful forces at play, ones that would stop at nothing to keep the truth hidden. But I couldn't let fear paralyze me. I had to be vigilant, cautious, and always one step ahead.

The path ahead was unclear, but I knew that the truth was worth fighting for. As long as I had Sasha by my side, we would navigate the treacherous waters together. We would uncover the secrets that the police were trying to bury.

The game had just begun, and I was determined to win.

Lost in my own curiosity, terrible visions flashed through my mind, eliciting the thrills of a horror movie scene and igniting fear that tormented my body. The sound of Sasha's voice shattered the silence, prompting me to hastily cover the note on my desk with my open palm, fearing she would notice it.

With an anxious smile, I shook Detective Johnson's hand, but his eyes remained fixated on me.

I hurried over to meet Sasha by the door, and she whispered gently, "Did you find out anything?"

Silence blanketed our conversation as I contemplated her question, uncertain of what answer to give. It was high noon when we parted ways for the rest of the day, and it wasn't until after lunch that I realized I hadn't read the note. Nervously, I reached into my bag and retrieved it, tightly clenching the paper in my fist. Closing my eyes, I prayed for the best, hoping to uncover the truth about my accident.

"Meet me in two hours at the alley on forty-seven. Come alone." These words stared back at me, fueling anxiety and curiosity. I couldn't resist the urge to find out the truth, but deep down, I knew I might come to regret my decision.

Glancing at my watch, I noticed it was almost two o'clock. As I reached the designated location, I spotted Detective Johnson and an unfamiliar face waiting for me. Summoning courage mixed with inner terror, I walked towards them.

My own thoughts screamed at me, questioning my sanity for being in an alley with a stranger and a man I barely knew. Was I being foolish or simply desperate? What was I trying to prove?

The stranger approached me, his eyes filled with bitterness and a stolen smile on his face. His unkempt eyebrows yearned for a shave, and weariness was etched across his features. While he possessed a strong physique, he exuded an aura of terror that intensified every second I stood there. He held a large duffle bag in his hand, and upon seeing it, instant regret washed over me.

"My boss wants you to take what's in this bag and forget about the accident. Leave town if you have to, or else..." the stranger threatened, his voice roaring like a thousand lions, shattering what little courage I had left.

"It's two million dollars," he continued.

"Two million dollars!" I shouted angrily.

Here I was, contemplating seeking the truth after losing everything, including my job, and all they wanted was to buy my silence. It left me questioning whether they had any remorse at all.

"You rich people always think you can wave your money around and get away with anything. It doesn't work like that," I blurted out, my words tinged with frustration and uncertainty.

Upset and filled with anger, the strange man tossed the bag of cash beside my feet.

I clenched my fists and stared at him, fueled by a mixture of rage and disappointment. How could I possibly confront a man of his size and strength? His body appeared as solid as rock.

This enigmatic figure, who had nearly cost me my life, turned out to be a billionaire! The audacity of him trying to buy my silence without even acknowledging or apologizing for what he had done ignited a fire within me.

"Take the money and go," Detective Johnson cautioned.

"No! I won't..."

Before I could finish my sentence, the stranger swiftly lifted his shirt, revealing something tucked into his waistband that resembled a gun.

As the horrifying scene unfolded before my eyes, I instinctively closed them and let out a scream, but no sound escaped my lips. My life flashed before me, and the rapid pounding of my heart served as a grim reminder of the little hope that remained.

Detective Johnson's body pressed against mine, trapping me. His feeble hands covered my mouth, preventing any further outcry. I writhed and twisted in an attempt to break free, but it was to no avail. Cold sweat drenched my body.

With a click, his finger poised on the trigger. I relinquished my futile struggle to escape Johnson's grasp.

"Bang... bang...!!"