I Stopped Saving the Second LeadChapter 3

The air around me shimmered and twisted, accompanied by the System’s digitized sigh.

Welcome to the fifth rebirth.

Since Tristan was so thoroughly addicted to his own suffering, I decided I was done playing the savior.

When I opened my eyes, the damp, familiar scent of mold hit me. I turned my head. At the mouth of a graffiti-covered alley, Valerie and a group of her grunge-clad sorority sisters were backing Tristan into a corner.

Valerie had bombed her SATs and failed to get into a decent college. Tristan, on the other hand, had passed with flying colors and enrolled in an Ivy League university.

Unable to stand his success, Valerie followed him to campus, bringing her reign of terror to his dorm steps.

The spawn point for this rebirth was identical to the last timeline.

With a blank expression, I watched Valerie kick Tristan in the stomach. He crumpled against the brick wall. She sneered, flicking her cigarette ash onto his designer shirt. “I told you, Tristan. You don't get to walk away from me. You owe me your life.”

“We grew up on the same street. Why did my family go bankrupt while the Blackwoods are still living in luxury? It makes me sick.”

“My parents are gone. Our legacy is gone. I have nothing left. You owe me for the rest of your miserable existence.”

They were childhood neighbors, growing up side by side. But after the Vanderbilt family lost their fortune, Valerie’s mind warped. She convinced herself that Tristan needed to suffer exactly as she had.

Tristan remained silent, though he glared up at her with a look of stubborn defiance.

I used to look at that rebellious glint in his eyes and think it was his bruised ego. Now, knowing what I know, I realized he was just sick in the head. He thrived on the humiliation. He enjoyed the pain she inflicted.

The memory of the third timeline burned brightly in my mind. Tristan had insisted on driving Valerie to the airport during a storm. I was in the passenger seat when a truck T-boned us.

I lay trapped in the crushed metal, my legs pinned, blood pouring into my eyes, screaming his name. He completely ignored me, frantically tearing at the backseat door to get to Valerie.

His words still echoed in my nightmares. “Hazel, hold on! I have to get Valerie out first! She is bleeding, she might be in shock!”

I had watched him carry her out of the wreckage to the safety of the sidewalk, leaving me behind as the engine sparked.

Valerie stood there, watching the flames engulf my side of the car, a manic grin on her face. She mouthed the words, "Serves you right."

She hated me for constantly intervening. She wanted to break him, and I kept fixing him.

My focus snapped back to the damp alleyway. Valerie gave a subtle nod to one of her lackeys, who promptly handed her a heavy aluminum baseball bat.

Crack!

Crack!

Crack!

The sickening sound of metal hitting bone echoed off the brick walls. Tristan was forced to his hands and knees, violently coughing up blood.

He lifted his bruised face. “Are you done yet?”

Valerie let out a cruel, melodic laugh. “Not even close. You walk around with too much swagger. I think it is time we took one of your arms out of commission.”

“Everyone says my soul is crippled. Let us make your body match, shall we?”

“Then we will truly be equals.”

A flicker of genuine panic crossed Tristan’s eyes, but it vanished in a heartbeat.

He truly did not believe she would go through with it. He refused to accept the depth of her malice.

I had asked him once, in a past life, “Why do you still love her after she almost sent you to the morgue?”

He had rolled his eyes, utterly annoyed. “You don't understand our bond. Valerie would never actually cross the line. She would never kill me. Honestly, if you had not meddled, things would have worked themselves out.”

“Stop acting like you are some holy savior. I never asked for your help. You forced your way into my business, so don't expect me to bow down in gratitude.”