The man sweeps me head to toe, pausing where Eli ripped open my shirt. My lace bra hides barely anything, but I try to keep my knees pulled close, shielding myself from his perusal. That only seems to intrigue him more.
He paces to the bed, watching me. When he approaches, I spot a blade at his hip. But it’s too low. There’s no way for me to grab it.
“Stay away from me.” I try to shift as he gets closer, but the rope keeps me here.
It was too much to think it would snap at the final second.
“Stay away?” He grins. “You seem to be missing the point, but I’m happy to showyou.”
The man grabs me by the ankles and tugs so hard my back flattens on the bed. The quick jerk has my shoulders aching. I cry out in pain, but it only makes him smile wider.
His gaze travels up to my bloody arms, and that’s when his smile falters. “Why is the rope fraying? What have you been doing in here?”
His eyes darken, but it isn’t anger that claims his expression, which is even more terrifying. The corner of his mouth ticks up, and I realize he enjoys the thought of me trying to break free. He wants me to fight back, and that says a lot about what he’s planning to do to me right now.
Instead of reaching for the rope, he grabs my ankles again, tugging harder this time. It stretches me out so there’s no hiding, sending a searing pain up through my shoulders. My wrists soak the sheets in blood as he starts to climb over me. But I refuse to let him win.
With a swift bend of my knee, I strike him at just the right moment, knocking him between the legs.
“Fucking bitch.” He grunts, but it turns into a chuckle.
I glare at him. “Sadistic asshole.”
He grabs my hips and flips me around so my stomach is pressed to the bed as he grabs my ass and tugs it in the air. I kick and scream and wiggle, but it does nothing but fuel this battle.
When he leans over me, I throw my head back. The crunch of his nose sends blood pouring down my back. He grunts and grumbles but doesn’t let up.
“Bitch. You’re going to pay for that.” He tugs my shoulder hard, and it finally snaps the rope free from one of my wrists.
He barely has time to grab me before I’m spinning around. His knuckles slam into my cheek, and stars fill my vision. But he’s too amused to notice my hand reaching for his blade. I tug it free and drive upward without hesitating.
Only then do his eyes widen. Sick pleasure turns to fear.
I pull the blade out and drive it into him again and again. Until his gurgled breath has blood spitting from his lips. He scratches for my arms, my chest. But I don’t stop; I just keep stabbing.
He’s gasping for air as I kick him off me, and he lands with a thud on the floor.
There’s so much blood; I can’t tell how many times I stabbed him. So long as he stays put, that’s all that matters.
I reach up and cut the rope from my other wrist, slipping off the bed. His last choked breath sputters from his lips as he stares up at me.
This isn’t the first death I’m responsible for, but it’s the first at my own hands. I look down at the bloody blade, and I should probably feel guilty for what I’ve done. Instead, I grip the knife and turn toward the door with determination blazing.
I’m going to kill them all if I have to.
I reach the door and pause, lifting my wedding ring from where Eli left it on the table and slipping it overa blood-soaked finger. I listen for any movement on the other side before slipping through. There’s no one keeping watch, so I manage to leave unnoticed. Drips of blood leave a path in my wake, but I don’t bother cleaning it up.
There’s no going back—only through.
The suite takes up the entire floor, with the main living room and kitchen at the center. On either side are doors to offices and bedrooms. Two men are stationed at the elevator, so I press my back to the wall and look for another way to escape.
A staircase, maybe?
I try a door to my left when a voice catches my attention.
Eli.
I creep toward it, glancing through the small crack where the door is ajar. Eli is sitting at a desk with his back to me, and from what I can see, there is no one else in the room.
