The Billionaire's Weakness

AVA’S POV

I fought back tears as I watched my carefree boyfriend casually throw the food I had prepared for him across the room. The plate crashed onto the rug. Stains of seasoned potatoes smeared upon the worn out rug. I remained forcefully calm, remembering that he made a significant contribution to my survival.

“Go and make another bowl of porridge. Make it better this time." He said without shifting his gaze from the PlayStation console.

I paused. My heart broke into a thousand pieces as the man I onced loved—who once loved me and could do anything for me, disregarded me.

“The remaining potatoes are ba—”

“I won’t repeat myself again." He cut me off as he spoke to me in a tone which most of the time if isn’t followed and obeyed, would result into punches and hard pushes.

“We are out of potatoes. I’ll just make macaroni casserole instead.”

My heart skipped a couple of beats. Brandon threw the dual-shock wireless controller over the rug in frustration. He abruptly stood up, then started walking slowly in my direction. I staggered back, overwhelmed by broken trust and regret. Words wouldn’t come. The four-week-old malaria had left me with a throbbing headache that made it hard to think.

“So, you really think you can talk back at me when I’m talking to you? “He said. He dragged his feet in an absurd manner towards me.

My head ached a little more by his threat. “But I just told you—”

His arm abruptly threw a hard slap across my face. I screamed shortly as I was taken aback from the expected slap. “Wait, so you actually think you can talk back at me right? Is that what you think? After all what I’ve done for you and your mother? You belong to me Ava, only me. Now and Forever." He said with a tone, which punches and severe beatings usually follows.

“What have I done this time?” I mistakenly blurted out as I stood frozen in realization. His hand shot out again as he didn’t hesitate to give me a good pounding.

I tried escaping from his deadly blows. My sanity was in the brink of collapse.

His evil grin flashed brightly across his chin. He flexed his muscular strength on my face. Sparingly, his punches went directly to my face.

My weak hand couldn’t defend my safety and my right hand steadily prevented my cheeks from getting slapped.

He swiftly changed his abuse method. He suddenly stopped punching me and started his ruthless attempt to choke me. I jerked my hands away from my face and grabbed the curtains. His muscles flexed as he choked me tighter. My eyes roamed across the room. It finally rested on the table lamp beside the corridor leading to the kitchen and just enough to reach.

I smiled as I looked into his eyes briefly.

”Go to hell…”I said with a whisper. I smashed the table lamp unto his thick skull.

He stumbled briefly before crashing down onto the ground. Bits of lamp glass sprawled across the floor.

Pushing from his already loosened grip, I bolted towards the door in fear—fear of being caught and probably tortured or the fear of being caught and killed.

”You can run for days, but we both know that I’ll end up finding you!" Brandon, whose face was stained with blood, declared with all the energy he had before he momentarily passed out.

Reaching for the door, I yanked the door knob downwards quite hastily. It refused to open. I re-tugged with a powerful force. My heart kept beating rapidly. Remembering where the key was situated, I lurked my head over to where he passed out on the rug. I stealthy moved over to where he laid.

I scrunched my eye at the view which was presented to me.

Glass bits left a bloody view on his face. I crouched down low and checked if he was still conscious. Confirming otherwise, I inserted my hand into his tuxedo pants pocket.

I pulled out the bunch of keys which unlocks most doors in the house. Inspired by my thoughts and chance, I inserted my right hand into his other pocket.

I pulled out a cigarette, a small folded pocket knife and twenty five dollars worth of cash. "This would be enough for some pills, Perhaps a room for the night at lenzy’s hotel.”

I lifted myself from his horizontal positioned body. I paused abruptly to look at his glass infested face one more time.

“We could have both been in love. Regardless, I’ll get you your money when I can.” I told my unconscious boyfriend.

I picked myself up from the ground carefully and started to head for the door quite hurriedly, having the feeling he would be up anytime.

”Cassie’s going to kill me.” With the last latch of the door’s lock opening smoothly, I spoke.

The chill night air slapped across my face as i stepped out of Brandon’s apartment. I can’t go back. He would kill me upon my return. I brushed off the thought of him. I covered my short brown hair with the hood of my hoodie while crossing the road.

The past memory that I shared with mum before she went missing, resurfaced through my mind as I stepped into the streets. Her loud and jovial laugh, the cold stare she usually give me as her only daughter when I come back from school late, her kindness and compassion-all came rushing back, creating a nostalgic feeling in my heart, thereby prompting a warm smile on my lips despite the cold night’s breeze's impact on the citizens of Simville.

Sometimes I wondered if I should have stayed by her side and never let her be alone since my father was killed by hooded thugs, the same night I lost contact with my best friend, Malik for the first time ever.

I also wondered if she really meant to protect me by leaving—leaving to find a means of getting money to pay up the debt she owed-so she says.

The warm smile started to face away slowly as I ask myself the question I’ve been always skeptical about, the question that I knew the answer by how she treated me before she left:

“Was I the cause of her leaving and the reason why she’s always in danger?”

The disturbing thoughts receded slightly as I walked into the neighboring pharmacy. I stepped inside the lit-up building. I dropped my hood lower to conceal more of my face to avoid being noticed.

“How can I help you today, miss…” The peculiar pharmacist said as she paused to observe my exposed chin.

“Ava?? What are you doing here? Why is your chin looking red? We can go to the patient ward to talk—” She started to say as she whispered softly.

“Sorry, I’m kind of in a hurry today. Can I get mefloquine?”

She paused unusually. I could feel her eyes looking directly as my slightly blood-stained hands. Observing her eyes looking for symptoms as she normally do to her patients, I abruptly placed my hands into my hoodie pockets.

“Sorry, it’s just atovaquone-proguanil we have currently." She spoke up, ignoring my suspicious stance.

“I’ll take it, pls.” I replied briefly.

She turned to face the shelf behind her as she reached for the drug.

“It’s very effective. Take a tablet in the morning and night augmented with the pain killers I prescribed with it.” She said while scribbling away prescription on the drug’s leaflet.

She looked up at me and smiled. She handed over the packaged medications to me. Still not satisfied with my unusual emotional state, she began to probe me.

“Let me guess…having a bad day?”

I looked at her quite keenly. I sharply displayed a weak smile across my face.

“You could say that..” I replied in absurdity. "Can I get a glass of water?” I asked.

“Yes you can...help yourself to the fridge behind the waiting chairs." She replied.

Standing up sluggishly due to the throbbing headache I was currently experiencing, I made my way to the dispenser.

The water poured into the cup seamlessly, As my mind replaced the thought of re-thinking my life choices with the thought of being caught—caught between the grip of someone who would likely place his desires above the human life, the man who I knew too well to hunt down any soul trying to betray or to deceive him.

I gulped down the cup of water quite hurriedly. I carefully swallowed my first evening dose of the medicine.

I instantly froze while staring into nothingness.

I need to get Brandon Smith his money back.