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I was just one more in a long line. A piece of trash they decided to pass back and forth between them. And when they get tired of me, then what? Are they planning to throw me back out onto the street? Kill me because I know too much?
My chest tightens, and it gets hard to breathe for a second.
I feel so fucking stupid.
Everything I wanted—the stability, the better life, the college education and real job—all the things I gave up when I came to live with these men? I gave them up for nothing.
So they could have fun with me before humiliating me and casting me out. Just a part of whatever sick game this is.
For a while, I felt like I had finally found a place to belong. Like I was with people who understood what it feels like to be broken and lost. I sat there, listening to their meetings and their plans, eating my favorite foods with them and thinking that it meant something.
But it was as flimsy as a house of cards, and now those cards are scattering in the wind.
As furious and hurt as I am with them, I only have myself to blame. I ate it up, so desperate to feel like it was true that I probably ignored all the signs that it wasn’t. I believed their pretty words and their lies, and let myself get swept up in all of it, thinking this was going to be something I would miss when it was all over.
Suddenly, it feels like the walls are closing in on me. The screen is too much to look at, and when my eyes land on Victor’s sleeping form again, that’s too much too. My stomach twists and heaves, and my eyes fill with tears.
I back out of the room, tiptoeing as quietly as I can.
For a minute, I stand in the hallway, feeling lost and confused. It’s almost like having emotional whiplash, and it seems impossible that less than twenty minutes ago, I was curled up in bed with Ransom, comfortable and warm and content.
Now I just feel cold and hurt, but when the tears well up again, I blink them away.
Crying isn’t going to solve anything. Neither is standing around in the hallway feeling sorry for myself. I already gave these men their chance to hurt me, and they took it and stabbed me in the fucking heart. I can’t do that again.
Determination fills my chest, starting a little shaky, but getting firmer as I remember those images and what they did to me.
No more.
I have to get out of here.
I won’t be a pawn in their games.
I put up with this shit from my mom for too long, letting her use me and manipulate me because I was too afraid of being alone to stand up to her and cut her off. I kept giving her the benefit of the doubt when I shouldn’t have, when all the evidence said she didn’t deserve it. When she betrayed every single chance I gave her in bigger and shittier ways every time.
I can’t let myself make the same mistake with these men.
Staying here would make me a pathetic fool, and believing they won’t hurt me again would make it even worse.
“Then go, Willow,” I whisper to myself.
It’s been a while since I’ve had to self soothe, since I’ve needed to talk myself out of a panic or stress. But I guess at the end of the day, the only person I can truly depend on is myself.
That decides it.
I pad down the hall silently, slipping into Ransom’s room. He’s still sound asleep, and he hasn’t moved from the spot he was in when I left.
Thinking about how fond I felt toward him just a short while ago makes acid burn in my throat, and I turn away from him, grabbing some clothes and a few other things from my bags. I dress in the hallway to lower the chances of waking him, my mind racing as I tug down the hem of my shirt.
I need a plan.
If I go back to my apartment and my old life, they’ll just come find me. Who knows how many more cameras Victor has in places that he lied about.
The only thing I can think to do is just… get away. Get far away. Maybe somewhere that they’ll never be able to find me if I get a big enough head start. They’re all asleep now, and it’s late enough that I should be able to get some distance before they wake up and realize I’m gone.
I slip down the stairs, being as quiet as possible, and then make my way into the room where I found Malice tattooing himself that one night. I noticed then that it seemed almost like a multipurpose room, a gym and an office all in one. Maybe what I need will be in here.
I rummage around in the desk set against one wall, opening and closing drawers until I find an envelope with a small stack of bills in it. Without letting myself hesitate or waver, I grab the stack and close the drawer again.
