They Made Me Run On a Broken Leg. Don Had My Back Chapter 01

They Made Me Run On a Broken Leg. Don Had My Back Chapter 01

At noon, the asphalt in New York was baking under the sun.

The ground temperature was nearing fifty degrees Celsius.

My right leg was in a heavy cast.

Two thick metal external fixation pins stuck out.

The hospital’s critical notice was in my hand. Soaked with cold sweat.

“Santino. Adrian won’t make it past tonight.”

“The ICU demands 300000 for surgery.”

“That’s my patent dividend. Give me the money.”

My voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping.

I leaned on my metal crutches. Gripping so hard.

Santino leaned against his new Porsche, in a tailored suit. He looked down at me.

His manicured nails had not a speck of dust.

“Dividend?”

He looked like he’d heard the world’s funniest joke.

His mouth twisted into a cold sneer.

He pulled out the patent agreement. We’d signed it two years ago.

Then he ripped it in half.

Riiip.

White scraps scattered in the air.

“Sable. The core code in R&D is all signed under my name.”

“You were just an assistant!”

“The company’s money needs to go where it matters.”

“Elena’s art exhibition opens today. It needs funding to make a splash.”

The passenger window rolled down.

Elena poked her head out, sunglasses on. A white couture dress.

The diamond necklace at her throat flashed in the sun.

“Sable, it’s really not that Santino won’t help you.”

“Art is priceless. But your brother? That bottomless pit.”

“No matter how much you throw in, he’s just waiting to die.”

Her voice was sickly sweet.

Her eyes were full of contempt.

I looked at Santino. My teeth bit into my lip until it bled.

“That patent took me three years. I nearly died for it.”

“Santino, without the base algorithm I gave you, your tech company would’ve folded long ago.”

His face darkened.

He walked over, long strides. Sound cold.

“Sable. Don’t push your luck.”

“My company runs on powerful backers.”

“Someone like you would never know them.”

“Your right leg is shattered. You can barely walk.”

“You want 300000 to save that sickly brother of yours?”

“Fine.”

He threw a black fitness tracker at me.

“We do this by the rules.”

“Put it on. Run on the road.”

“One kilometer, I transfer ten thousand.”

“Run thirty kilometers. Not a cent less.”

“Straight to the hospital account.”

A few passing employees stopped. Whispered. No one stepped forward.

Elena covered her mouth, laughing in the car.

She turned on the stereo. Cheerful jazz drifted out.

“Santino, you’re being too hard on Sable. Her bones haven’t even healed.”

Santino sneered. Glanced at his watch.

“What, not enough?”

“Sable. The clock’s already running.”

“If you don’t run, in five minutes, your brother gets wheeled out of the ICU.”

My chest clenched like an iron hand full of barbs.

I couldn’t breathe.

I looked at that cold face.

The last bit of warmth in my eyes scattered away.

I let go of my metal crutches.