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“She looks so much like you, Elsa.”
I scream, trying to lurch from my chair even though one wrist is still tied to it. I fumble for my fork, then jolt as Hugo fires a shot into the ceiling.
“SIT.DOWN.”
He turns back to Nora, ignoring my screams and her shaky sobs as he cups her cheek.
“Don’t cry, my little one. God has saved your innocence all for me. For today.”
That’s not going to happen.
His back is to me, I don’t know for how much longer, but it’s all I’ve got to work with. I grab the fork from the table, turning it and madly raking and scraping at the old, frayed rope tying my other wrist to the chair. My skin rips and bleeds, but the rope gives way.
Hugo starts to turn at the sound of my chair falling backward, but I’m already on him, stabbing down into his shoulder with the prongs of the fork.
“Youbitch!”
I scream, stabbing over and over before suddenly he backhands me again hard.
But I’m not done, and I amnotgoing down without a fight. I scream again, lunging at him and stabbing wildly with the fork. Over and over, I only manage to hit his free hand and the one holding his gun as he stumbles back trying to block my blows. Finally, I get one thrust past his hands, right into his face.
Hugoroarsas the fork rakes over his eyes, bloodying one of them. He sobs, falling backwards and writhing on the floor as he clutches his face.
I don’t have much time.
I use my fingers and the fork together to rip and shred the ropes from Nora’s wrists before yanking her from the chair and out of the kitchen door. It’s foggy and gray outside, and the ground is wet as it heads down a slope towards a set of train tracks. The opposite way, the slope leads up to a patch of woods.
Nora gasps as I grab her face, my eyes locked on hers.
“You need torun!” I blurt, turning and shoving her up the slope in the direction of the trees.
She twists, whipping around to shake her head at me.
“No! Elsa—!”
“RUN!”
I shove her and shove her again, looking deep into her eyes.
“PLEASE. RUN.”
She looks at me once more, mute. Then she’s off, zigzagging up the slope and disappearing into the woods.
Thank God—
I cry out when something slams against my head from behind, turning my vision blurry as I drop to my hands and knees. I groan, seeing stars, finally able to stand.
…Only to come face to face with Hugo and his gun. Vicious fury twists his face—one eye focused lethally on me, the other a horrific, bloody mess.
“You’ll fucking pay for that.”
I choke as he grabs my throat, hauling me up and slamming me hard against the outside wall of the tiny cottage.
“But first…”
Fear and adrenaline stab through me like twin knives as Hugo starts to undo his belt.
“First,” he snarls, “I’ll take what I’ve dreamed of. Not quitehowI dreamed it,” he mutters as he paws at his zipper. “But I bet your cunt still tastes just as fucking sweet—”
