The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon)

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The Art Of Revenge by MK20 Gab Chapter 28 Jessica’s Pov

My skiing board lay partially drenched in Josh’s blood on the frozen surface as I stood on the cold

bl**dy snow, lost and confused.

Josh, my husband of only days, was whisked away in a stup*d helicopter and I was helpless and

powerless to just watch them take him away. They could not even allow me to accompany him.

They wouldn’t let his bl****dy wife into the stup*d chopper. He was hurt and needed a wife by his side,

he needed a familiar voice to let him know that everything was going to be okay. But they wouldn’t let

his wife travel with him.

Useless bunch of meatheads and I planned to sue them all once Josh recovered.

People were still standing around, horrified and in disbelief at what had just happened, just as I was.

Everything happened so fast and in split seconds. A minute before, I was giggling behind me at how

meticulous he was with his skiing.

I was laughing, but when I turned around to look behind me, I heard a commotion and saw him flying

through the air with his skiboard dislodged.

I tried relaxing by closing my eyes and breathing deeply. I couldn’t panic; Josh needed me to be strong,

I needed to make calls and track the chopper, but I had no idea which hospital they had taken him to.

The paramedics were so intent on chasing me out that they didn’t bother informing me where they were

taking him, and I didn’t ask. I forgot to ask because I was in total confusion and everything was

happening so fast.

I dashed over to the guards and inquired about the helicopter’s whereabouts, but they had no idea. Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

They were attempting to contact the pilot but were unsure who he was. The chopper was private

property and belonged to a wealthy skier who was only passing through at the time of the accident and

offered to take Josh.

Josh was lucky, they said, he would have died by the time the resort helicopter arrived at the scene. At

least there was some good part about what transpired, and I could only be thankful that the stranger

was kind enough.

But they were irritating me by the fact that they had no idea which hospital Josh was taken to.

I screamed at them to stop talking because what they were saying was illogical. I had no way of

knowing which hospital he had been admitted to. My head was pounding as tears streamed down my

cheeks like rain on a stormy day.

My head felt like it was being whacked with a metal rod. They tried every hospital in the area, but none

of them had a skiing accident victim. I felt like grabbing and punching someone because my head hurt.

There was no way a helicopter carrying a patient and passengers could just vanish into thin air, leaving

no trace. The worst day of my life just became a nightmare. I kept inquiring, but no one was able to

contact the helicopter.

My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen, and I was shaking. The only thing that made sense was a

crash. The only explanation for why no hospital within a reasonable distance had any information about

them was that the helicopter had crashed.

I knelt, perplexed, and blame began to devour me. It was all my fault because I insisted on spending

our honeymoon in Canada, which turned out to be the worst nightmare. Despite the fact that I was well

aware that he disliked the cold, I insisted since I was always selfish and wanted my way.

Everything would not be occurring or would have been avoided if I had been a little more compromising

as he had always been.

The resort’s administrator approached me and took me to one of the resort facilities. It was a small well

kept brown room. The color only made me shrug, it was so unpleasant to look at. He offered me a seat,

but I was not in the mood.

Instead of looking for my husband, they were all busy making ridiculous apologies, wasting time that

they could have spent looking for him. The town’s sheriff also came into the room and collected my

statement; they were equally taken aback by my recount of events but vowed to locate my husband.

I simply stepped away without saying anything, trying to reach for my phone as I walked away; I

needed to call Victor. My hands were trembling as I remembered how bad I had been with Josh in

recent days, constantly shoving him against the wall and bringing up silly Thalia.

I guess it was my insecurity, and I was putting him to the test. I always suspected there was a part of

him that liked her, but he pushed it back because he was on a mission to destroy her. Or maybe I was

being punished for all the wrongs I had done.

But then it hit me: I’d wrecked all those hours and days when we were supposed to be building our new

life. My tears nearly drowned the phone as I stared at it motionless. I wiped it down rapidly, looking for

Victor’s line.

My hands were so shaky, I was on the verge of letting go of the phone when I quickly held on. On

second thought, I took the chair that had been provided to me previously and unzipped my suit; the

room was getting too hot.

After minutes of searching, I found Victor’s line with difficulty, but it went on ringing without response, I

attempted calling him for the eleventh time without success. The m*ron was most likely at a party,

banging girls who were young enough to be his daughters.

I cursed him and left him numerous messages. His son was probably drying and needed him but he

was nowhere to be found. He was the only person who could find out what had happened to the

helicopter swiftly.

I began panicking again, every minute that was passing by could not be recovered. And when they

provided a glass of water, I hurled the entire glass cup in the cop’s face. They were supposed to be

looking for my husband instead of babysitting me.

I inquired as to whether there was any new information, but he merely looked down in shame. “Get out

of my face!” I screamed at him and averted my gaze. Canada’s police force was sluggish and inept.

When my phone rang, it was Victor, and I took the call, my heart slowed and calmed down a little. To

my annoyance, he began asking for details, which irritated me even more.

“Just get your f**king self here!” I became enraged and yelled at him.

“If I have to send my people on the ground, I need details,” he said, but he became upset, so I offered a

summary of what I remembered.

“But why didn’t you insist on accompanying him,” he asked, further enraging me even more.

“Just bring your obnoxious a**hole here! Do you seriously believe I just sat there while they took my

husband?” I yelled at the top of my lungs and switched the phone off drawing everyone’s attention in

the room and outside.

I took a deep breath and turned around to see that everyone was staring at me. Some looked at me as

if I were insane, while others felt sorry for me. I’d never felt so vulnerable and lost in my entire life.

I had barely been married for a week but everything seemed to be coming apart in front of my eyes.

“What are you all looking at!” I yelled at them. “Stop looking at me with your ugly faces!”

“Mrs. Nelson, please calm down?” the sheriff ordered.

“If you do not find my husband in the next thirty minutes I will sue this dumb resort and the entire police

department!” I yelled at him.


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