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She really was delusional. As before, the tiniest stirring of pity churned in my stomach. I quickly dismissed such an emotion with a tidal wave of anger. I could feel nothing for her except hatred. Maybe I could’ve forgiven her for what she had done to me - bruising me, hurting me, scarring my face with her knife. But for what she did to Ryder and still continued to do to him? I could never forgive that.
Still, I managed an amicable nod at her request, despite the clenching of my teeth and the tightening of my jaw.
A plan quickly formed. Okay, it wasn’t a plan, necessarily, but an idea. An idea that could potentially free us from this hell hole.
As I watched, Liz diligently began untying the rope from where she hooked it on the side of my bed. My hands clenched beneath the quilt as she began to talk about Ryder. About his love towards her. About his lovemaking.
Still, I held my tongue.
The rope finally came undone, sliding off my body with a light pull on her end. Finally, I could move my arms.
She moved down to the rope around my legs, still chattering excitedly. I didn’t listen to a word she said.
I wouldn’t - couldn’t - hear those words. The way she degraded Ryder.
Stealthily, I inched my hand towards the bedside table as she continued to undo the knots around my legs.
Slowly. Ever so slowly.
“There!” The second rope fell to the floor just as my hand connected with her coffee cup. She turned towards me, a singularly beautiful smile alighting her face, and I smiled back.
Just before throwing the coffee at her.
She let out a scream, dropping her head into her hands. Coffee sizzled where it connected with her skin and shards of glass got caught in her disheveled hair.
Without waiting for her to recover, I slammed a fist into her face.
There was nothing satisfying about seeing her tiny body drop to the floor. I was too numb for anything like that. This girl, this monster, needed help.
I told myself that I would find her that help as soon as I escaped.
For now, though, I wasn’t going to leave her here unattended. That was a novice move. Grabbing the rope from the ground, I made quick work in tying her to the bed.
I hoped, slightly sardonically, that she would tremble with fear, with the knowledge that she was trapped. The rope almost seemed to be a physical manifestation of her continuous torment. With them on, I knew that I was retrained. Captured.
Hers.
Ignoring the pain in my body - from the raw skin brought about by the rope, the cut on my face, the bruises no doubt a hideous combination of blue, yellow, and black - I shuffled down the hallway.
I wouldn’t be able to tell you what it looked like, how many pictures hung in the wall, or how many doors ran the length of the premise. All I could focus on were the barely audible sobs from the door furthest down the hallway, adjacent to an opened-door bathroom.
Without hesitating, I threw the door opened, blinking my gaze against the piercing sunlight blinding me from the window.
“Go away!” Ryder cried.
He was lying in the bed, back to me, wearing only a pair of shorts. His dark skin was covered in gashes - both, I suspected, from knives and fingernails.
“RyRy,” I said softly. Tears welled in my eyes.
At the sound of my voice, Ryder’s head snapped my way. He stared at me for a long moment, expression indecipherable, before he jumped to his feet.
His strong body collided with mine, the momentum nearly propelling me off my feet. He held me tightly against him, his nose in my hair as he inhaled my scent.
“Kitten,” he breathed. As if a thought suddenly occurred to him, he pulled away from me, pushing me behind him and standing guard in front of me. He cast a predatory look in both directions, muscles tensing.
“She’s not coming,” I said, keeping my voice gentle. “I took care of it.”
He didn’t ask me to elaborate, and I didn’t offer any more information. I honestly didn’t think he could handle hearing her name, let alone seeing her again.
