Ruth b - Lost Boy

He stepped into her room, a furious expressed plastered on his face. Rory's room was a mess - empty drawers left opened, vanity cleared and her bed unmade. Gideon assumed she had left in the dead of night, running away with what she could. Right now Carl was scanning through the security feed on his tablet, jaws clenched as he saw her opening the gates and pedalling away.

Gideon had arrived 8.30am sharp after hearing his bride knew they were getting married. Excitement danced on his skin as he drove here. However, the moment he had seen her father's face he knew she was gone. He was seething with anger, grabbing Carl's collar and shouting profanities. He was an idiot, he couldn't even keep an eye on his daughter.

He fished his phone from his pocket, dialling the man who he had trailed Rory.

"Where is she?" He growled. "Tell me you have eyes on her."

"Yes, sir," he answered, "Ms Whitmore is currently outside a psychiatric hospital, she had just pulled up and is chaining her bike to the railings."

Her mother.

"Good job." He applauded. She was safe and hadn't gotten far. "Keep an eye on her and don't let her leave the perimeter."

"She's at the hospital?" Carl said, a look of shame flashing through his eyes.

"Sí," he ended the call and put his phone into his back pocket. "She's mine now." He tells him with possessiveness that can make anyone shiver. "So I'll take care of this and you go back living your life."

Gideon left the Smith's residence in a hurry, climbing into the backseat of the SUV and demanded the driver to step on it. He reached the hospital within half a hour, spotting a familiar back Cadillac parked a few meters down - the man who he had trailed her.

He vowed to reward this man greatly for doing his job correctly.

Once he got his hands on her, he planned to put them on a plane to Bogotá with an engagement ring on her finger. The last preparation of the wedding had been fast forwarded, they were getting married a week earlier now.

This was the last time she'd be seeing her mother thus, Gideon patiently waited for her outside the hospital.

~*~

Curly blonde hair tied in a knot on top of her head and the same sea green eyes stared back. Her mother was her twin. Rory particularly ran into the room, scooping the woman into her arms. But, she doesn't hug her back anymore, her eyes have sunken into her head and she looked lifeless.

The doctor had explained her mother had deteriorated in the last two to three weeks. Her episodes coming on much harder and the antipsychotic drugs had no effect. They have given her stronger medication but the side effects were coming in full swing.

"Mom," she whispered in her ear. "Let's get out of here."

Today she had came with the intention of discharging her mother. She had mentioned it to the doctor though she did not seem entirely pleased and had disappeared into her office.

"Rory, where have you been?" She asked with a shaky voice. "I was looking for you. I thought you left me."

"I'd never leave you." She cried in a panic, tears filling her eyes. "I'm sorry I haven't come visited, I just had some problems at...home."

"Is your father not treating you right?" She frowned, "I'll give him a call and talk to him if you want."

"No!" Rory shook her head, letting the lie leave her mouth with an ache, "Don't worry about it. I've been busy with school that's all."

There was no way she was going to tell her what her ex was planning to do to her.

She reached for her mother's hand, bring it up to her face and relaxing into her touch. In her presence was where she felt safest. Even if her mother couldn't quite grasp reality, Rory never doubted her mother would hurt her or even be incapable of looking after her. The law just didn't see it the way she did.

She leaned her head against her mother's shoulder and all the frustration left her body. She didn't resent her father because he didn't love her from the beginning and she didn't love him either. They were strangers forced to live under the safe roof. She didn't care for the reasons he had married her off to Mr Torres but she was certain she was never going to marry him.

"Ms Whitmore." The doctor, a tall slender woman with a clip poked her head through the door. "May I speak with you?"

Nodding, Rory let go of her mother's hand and sauntered out the room. The doctor takes her to the waiting room and they perched on arm chairs beside each other. She flipped through her clip board, adjusting the glasses on her nose before glancing up at Rory.

"You asked to discharge your mother." She stated, her small smile turned into a wary frown. "I'm so sorry we can't do that." She said, "Your mother has been deteriorating in the last two to three weeks and she hasn't been responsive to the medication. We can't discharge her if she's a danger to herself."

Rory swallowed the pain in her throat, fists clenching the hem of her hoodie tightly.

"How long until she gets better?"

"It could be 6 weeks to 6 months."

She didn't have that long. She was to be married by the end of the week. Rory could run now and never look back but at the cost of leaving her mother behind. She would just be as cruel as her father for doing that.

No, she'd never leave her mother.

"Rory, are you alright?" She asked, seeing the look of terror plastered on her face.

"Yes, I'm fine." She replied. She excused herself and returned to her mother who was occupied by a nurse.

"Rory!" She beamed, her words slurring. "I was just thinking about you."

She stayed with her mother until the morning visitation time ended. She promised to come back late afternoon when the slots opened up again. She left the building deep in thought. Helplessness was all she felt right now. There was nothing she could do and she didn't exactly wanted to go back to her father's house with her tail between her legs.

He wasn't going to help her. He had already given her up.

Before she could even unchain her bike from the railings, big hands clamped down her mouth pulling her back against a hard chest. She attempted to scream but her attacker had moved one of his hand to her throat, squeezing it to stop her from making any noise.

Violent fear raced through her blood, seeping across every vein and fibre of her body. Rory was frightened but she wasn't going to be taken that easily. Flailing her arms, she did everything to try and free herself. Biting, hitting and kicking her legs. However, her attacker was much stronger she gathered since he hardly flinched from her attempts.

She closed her eyes and her mother's smiling face appeared, it made the tears flood down her cheeks. Warm and wet tears dripping on to the attacker's hand. She could feel them loosening their hold on her neck but it only made them tighten the one over her mouth.

A shuffling of pockets and rattling metallic zippers filled her ears then a suddenly prickle against the side of her neck. A needle. She could feel its point digging into her skin, it was quick and painless.

Her eyes fluttered open and the world before her was blurred, not from her tears though. It began to spin and nausea threaten to spill from her stomach. She clenched onto strong arms to retain her balance but her knees couldn't keep her up as she buckled under her own weight. Before, she could hit the floor someone had picked her up, cradling her to their chest and holding her as if she was delicate China doll.

Was it a nurse from the hospital?

Perhaps, a saviour of some kind. Whatever they were, their spiced vanilla scent with a hint of lemon filled her nostrils prompting her to relax and fall asleep.