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He bucks his hips, knocking me off, and my head slams into the floor. We both lay there panting, trying to catch our breaths, but he will win if I lay here any longer. I can't let him win.
I kick out once more, getting him in the side of the head, and he grunts, “You're a feisty little bitch! I'm going to have fun killing you now.”
“Fuck you! The only one doing any killing will be me!” I swing my hand, embedding the knife into his upper thigh.
“FUCK!!”
I yank my hand back and bring it down again, hitting his gut. I get up onto my knees, and his eyes widen as he watches me grip the handle with both hands and plunge it into his chest.
“You motherfucker! How does it fucking feel? Huh? Who's the little bitch now?” Over and over, I bring the knife down, stabbing him in the chest and stomach. It's overkill, but I can't help it...I can't stop.
It isn't until my adrenaline starts to waver, or maybe it's the blood loss, that I begin to feel a bit woozy. There is a burning in my side, and when I toss the knife aside, I realize that at some point, the fucker stabbed me with the scalpel I was using on him. It protrudes from my side, so I take hold of the handle and yank it out.
“ARGH!” I clench my jaw and then climb off the dead asshole.
Finding some bandages inside the door of the tipped cart, I wrap my side up and then stare at the guy I stabbed to death. I drop to my knees and search his pockets, finding his cell phone tucked away in the front pocket of his jeans. I pull it out and dial the one number that I know will answer my call.
As I wait for them to answer, I close my eyes to the lightheadedness I'm feeling but reopen them when I hear his voice, “Who the fuck is this?” Oakley's growl sounds like heaven.
“Oakley...help...” I've lost too much blood and can't stop myself from slumping over my kidnapper as the phone slips from my hand. I can hear Oakley calling out to me, but I can do nothing as I slip into total darkness.
I'm not sure how longI was out, but I wake up still sprawled across my dead kidnapper. I jerk away and then curse as pain streaks up my side and through my midsection, where the fucker carved me.
I kick the dead asshole, trying to take my anger out on him for carving me up the way he did. I'm grunting and groaning with each kick because it hurts like a bitch. It isn't until I give up and I'm panting that I hear the voice calling my name.
I look around and see that the phone is still lit up. I must not have been out very long. I lunge for the cell phone, “Oakley...is that you? Are you there?”
“I'm here, Kitty Cat! We are on our way!” Oakley says calmly.
“I don't know where I am, though.”
“Don't worry about it. Just stay on the line with me, and we will find you. We are in the Jeep now and almost there.”
“But how do you know?”
“I'll explain later, baby. Listen to me, Kitty Cat,” Oakley pauses briefly, “Can you tell me how many people are there with you?”
“I-I don't k-know. It's just the d-dead guy and me right n-now,” I stutter.
“Dead guy?” he questions.
“I k-killed him O-Oakley...I k-killed a man!” It's starting to sink in, and I don't know how to feel about it.
“Good girl...you did good, baby. Don't worry; he can't hurt you anymore.” I nod, forgetting that he can't see me over the phone. “So, you don't know if anyone else is there with you?”
“I think he may have been here alone today. There were two yesterday, but he's the only one who came here to make the video,” I tell him.
“Video? HE CUT YOU UP AGAIN?” He shouts through the phone so loud that I have to yank it away from my ear.
“Y-Yes. It's okay...it will heal,” I tell him.
“Why haven't we received it yet?” he asks.
“He probably wanted to clean me up and glue my cuts first, but then I k-killed him.” I can't say the word without stuttering.
“Where did he cut you, and how deep?” he growls.
“He c-carved me this time...” I hear a bunch of expletives and then a brief silence, “Oakley?”
