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I watch in horror as the man I was taunting a mere moment ago lies motionless on the ground. I swing to hit the person who comes toward me, but I don't land a good enough punch. They overpower me and press a cloth against my face, the same thing that had been done when I was kidnapped all those months ago. I claw at my attacker, digging my fingers along their skin, but it's no use, whatever lines the fabric renders me unconscious within seconds.
* * *
Iwake in a foggy state, my eyes blinking and desperately trying to see through the dimly lit area. I tug at my hands but they’re tied to the armrests of the chair I’m sitting in. My legs are secured to the chair, too. All of my limbs held in fucking place. My shoes crinkle against the plastic covering the ground. I take in my surroundings, finally settling my sights on a few feet in front of me.
The beautiful man I've spent nearly every day with for the last six months is bound to a chair, too. His face is bloodied from the blow to his head and his nose is bent like it's broken. His head hangs loosely in place, and I've never wanted more than to reach out and touch him. I stare at his chest, holding my breath in hopes that his will rise and fall. It's shallow, but I sigh in relief at seeing there still be life in him.
A single bulb dangles between us, giving off minimal light to fill the eerie space. With its metallic and dirty scent, it leads me to believe we're in an industrial building. I pause and listen intently in hopes of picking up any clue as to where we are. Water sounds from a distance, and the second I recognize it, I pick up the faintest trace of it in the air.
“Ah, I see the little bitch is up,” a man calls out as he moves toward me.
“Why don’t you untie me and say that again?” I wriggle against my restraints.
“That’s fucking cute.” He comes into my line of sight. His hair is a mess, matted down on his head. His rancid fucking breath turns my stomach. He holds a knife in his grasp and points it at me.
I swallow the familiarity of the situation. Same way of kidnapping me. Same type of weapon to torture me. If I didn’t already kill my attacker, I’d venture to say this is the work of the same man. But I sliced his throat and carried his blood home on me until I showered it off, rinsing him and that experience down the drain. That was the night something sparked to life within me. Simon had witnessed it as I sliced the blade through that man’s neck. My men try to ignore what awoke inside me but there’s no denying that kind of darkness. The more you try to snuff it out, the wickeder it gets.
And now here I am, face to fucking face with a copycat version of that man I killed. My past is coming back to haunt me and test whether or not I'll make it out again. Only this time I'm not that same weak girl. No, I'm a sadistic bitch with enough anger coursing through me to burn this whole place down.
I just have to bide my time and figure out how the fuck I’m going to get Simon and me out of this.
“Come back,” I tell him when he walks away from me and toward Simon. “I thought we were going to have a little fun.”
But he doesn’t listen. “Have to wake your boyfriend up first.” He pokes the tip of his blade into Simon’s cheek until blood runs down his neck, and he snaps to life.
Simon gasps and writhes, and within a second, his eyes lock onto mine. A million emotions flash over his face, and I recognize every fucking one of them.Concern. Anger. Fury.They struggle to take their turn in the spotlight. “Let her go and take me.”
I narrow my gaze at him. Like fucking hell.
The man laughs. "I will do no such thing. This was a two-for-one deal, and I will not lose out because of some pathetic bargaining."
“You don’t want her. She’s nobody to you.” Simon continues to beg. “I can give you whatever you want. Money. Cars. Women. Anything you want, name it, it’s yours. Just let her go.”
“You think I came for you, son?” He chuckles dryly. “The hit was on her, not you, pretty boy.” He draws his arm back and slams his fist across Simon’s face. “Now shut up before I cut out your tongue.”
That’s what I had threatened that man with before I asked if the guys thought I could cut his heart from his chest. Simon had been the first to step up and volunteer to do it for me. In the end, we never tested the theory, but I sure as hell would like to with this guy.
I continue to squirm and try to find some weak spot in this plan of his. But neither my hands nor legs budge at all. This fucker made sure to not make the same mistake as the other man who dared to take me hostage.
“You’ll fucking pay for this. You don’t know who you’re messing with.” I spit at the man when he gets close enough.
He hits me with the back of his hand and sends blood trickling down my nose and onto my chest. He trails the tip of the blade down and slices through the fabric on the front of my shirt, exposing more of me than was already out in the open.
“I will fucking kill you!” Simon yells at him. “Do not fucking touch her or I will snap every single one of your fingers off and shove them into your eye sockets.”
“Is that so?” He glances over at Simon and then at me. “What do you think?” He walks behind me and grabs a fist full of my hair, holding me securely in place with the blade poised to my neck.
“Look at me, love,” Simon whispers. “Just look at me. Keep looking at me.” His eyes shimmer the brightest green I’ve ever seen as he stares at me like my life depends on it. Because in a way, it does.
Maybe dying won’t be so bad when the last thing I see is him. The one man who actually told me the truth and tried to do everything he could to protect me. My men claim they do, but everything they’ve done has only hurt me more and more with each passing day. Their deceit was what drove me out of the fucking house in the first place and led me and Simon to this fateful place.
If I die today, then my death is on their hands. Not this mans. The men who claimed to have my best interest in mind yet pushed me away until I quite literally ran from them.
And here I am, staring into the eyes of their enemy and feeling nothing but fucking hatred in my bones.
Hate for the lies.
Hate for the distance.
