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Panic explodes through my body as my ‘fight’ mode kicks into overdrive.
I swipe my feet at his, hoping that I can knock him off balance, but he’s so much larger than I am and his grip on my hair is so tight that it feels like he’s going to pull my scalp clean from my skull.
This can’t be how I go out. I refuse to allow this to be the way that I die.
Absolutely not.
I’m a Levine for Christ’s sake. Does he not have any idea?
Guess the meathead just doesn’t care. He might not have any sense of self preservation, but I sure do.
I surge forward under the water and grab a hold of his junk as hard as I can, twisting and pulling with every bit of strength that I have left in my body.
Dark spots are forming on my vision, but it works.
I can hear him yowling in pain even from under the water. Enough that I can scrape my manicured nails into his arm like talons to free my hair from him and kick away.
With a final burst of energy, I kick the heel of my foot into his face as hard as I can before swimming for my life.
Shaking so hard my hands barely work, I gather up all of our clothes and belongings and book it to the elevators.
I glance over my shoulder long enough to see that the pool water has bled red in a ring all around his frame.
Derek’s eyes glint with absolute murder and rage as he slowly attempts to wade toward me.
The elevator doors ding and I burst inside and awkwardly fumble the room key against the lock.
It’s certainly not going to delay him for very long that he doesn’t have a key to the room, but I will take every second that I can possibly get.
I throw myself into our hotel room and slam the door shut, barricading the thin wood with the dresser. Adrenaline must be on high time overdrive because the heavy wooden furniture is not something that I would have been able to move on my own before. I don’t think that I’ve ever managed to pack quite this quickly in my whole life.
I am a hurricane as I tear through the room moving on instinct more than anything else.
I know that if I stop moving, even for a second, reality is going to catch up with me. I can’t allow myself the time to process whatever the fuck just happened to me.
I have to move. I have to get somewhere safe. Then I can call Alexei.
Everything will be okay. That’s what I have to keep telling myself.
I leave behind everything that isn’t absolutely mandatory for my survival.
It feels far too much like my childhood to be comfortable.
Scrambling to hide. Throwing everything into a backpack and mindlessly running until I know that I’m safe.
Alexei is my safe. He’s always been the one to take care of me - but now my brother is tucked away in New York City and a hell of a long distance from Spain.
The violent pounding at the door is even more triggering.
Only, it’s not my father on the other side of the wood this time. It’s an enraged giant of a man whose nose I likely broke a few moments ago after his failed murder attempt.
My heart thumps into my throat and my shaking is even more violent as I throw my backpack on and lace my shoes as best I can before heading to the balcony.
Not the best option, I’ll admit that. But, if it's death or death, I will be damned if I don’t choose pavement splatter when the other option isman.
Over the balcony and down the drainpipe. I’m nearly down to the ground when I hear the door of my hotel room shatter.
The angry crunching of wood splintering and furious shouting is the background noise to my heart threatening to suffocate me and a desperate desire for him tonot look down.
