They Made Me Run On a Broken Leg. Don Had My Back Chapter 03

They Made Me Run On a Broken Leg. Don Had My Back Chapter 03

Beep—

The tracker buzzed. Two kilometers.

My right leg went completely numb. Then a cold sensation spread.

Nerve overload.

Ding—

My phone rang again. 10000 this time.

He thought I’d beg after 500 meters. Hand over the core code password.

But I’d dragged a shattered leg to kilometer three.

“Santino, she’s not actually going to finish, is she?”

Panic crept into Elena’s voice.

She didn’t want 300000 in my pocket.

Santino snorted. Face dark.

“Her leg’s a closed fracture.”

“Keep this up, the bone will shatter completely.”

“Three kilometers is her limit. One more, she’ll never walk again.”

The last hundred meters of kilometer three was a slope.

Nothing to a normal person. To me, a cliff.

Every lift of my leg, the broken bone edge stabbed the flesh.

Red soaked through my running shoe. Left a trail of dark red on the road.

“Fifty meters left…”

I gasped. My vision turned red.

“Thirty…”

“Ten…”

Beep—

Three kilometers.

Every ounce of strength drained.

My mind went blank. I fell straight toward the curb.

My palm scraped the rough edge. A layer of skin tore off.

My phone buzzed. Third transfer.

Santino pushed the door open.

His leather shoes stopped in front of me.

“Sable. Three kilometers. 25000.”

“Give me the secondary key for the core code.”

“The rest, I’ll transfer right now.”

I lay on the ground, gasping. Cold sweat and dirt on my face.

I reached out. Operated my phone. Transferred the all to the hospital.

Then I looked up. Pulled a smile at Santino.

“Santino. The key? Forget it.”

“300000—I’ll run it out of you, meter by meter.”

—

Four p.m. Hospital orthopedic ER.

The room smelled of antiseptic.

Dr. Smith held my new X-ray. His hands shook slightly.

His face was pale as he looked at me.

“Reckless!”

“You’re gambling with the rest of your life!”

“It was a simple displaced fracture. Now the bone is shattered.”

“Both pins are loose!”

“Massive tissue contusion. Huge hematoma under the wound!”

Dr. Smith pointed at the misaligned shadow on the film, shouting.

“Sable, you work in medical device R&D. Don’t you understand human anatomy?”

“Keep going, and your leg is done for good.”

“No one can save you. Only amputation.”

I sat on the treatment table.

I shook all over from the pain.

I didn’t make a sound. Just gripped the bedsheet.

“Dr. Smith. Clean the wound. Re-fix it.”

“Give me three pain pumps. Two boxes of tramadol.”

Dr. Smith slammed the chart on the table.

“Are you insane?”

“Painkillers only numb the nerve. They don’t fix the bone!”

“Your brother’s in the ICU upstairs. If you end up paralyzed, who takes care of him?”

Adrian. My chest clenched.

“Dr. Smith. Adrian needs the machine today. Or he won’t make it to morning.”

“I need money.”

“My leg can be replaced with a prosthetic.”

“If Adrian dies, everything’s gone.”

Dr. Smith looked at me.

He sighed.

“Poor girl…”

—

The doctor drove a thick metal rod through the flesh. Tightened the loose pins.

No general anesthesia. Only local freeze.

I bit down on my back teeth.

After the wound was treated, I went to the top-floor ICU.

Through the glass, Adrian lay quietly.

Tubes everywhere. The ventilator’s waveform was faint.

He was only 19. Just got into medical school.

His life hadn’t really started.

I pressed my forehead against the cold glass. Tears fell.

“Adrian. Don’t be scared.”

“Even if it costs me my life, I’ll pull you back.”

I took the tramadol from my pocket. No water. Swallowed four.

My phone buzzed.

Santino. An electronic invitation.

[Tomorrow, 9 a.m. Elena’s art exhibition. Ellis Plaza.]

Then a voice message.

“Sable. Tomorrow at the exhibition. Ten laps around the plaza. One kilometer each.”

“Finish, and I’ll settle the rest.”

“If you don’t show, not a cent more. Start planning your brother’s funeral.”

I gripped the phone. Tomorrow would be interesting.

That man. He’d come.

Wouldn’t he.