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“Courage is grace under pressure.”
—Ernest Hemingway.
Zoe
Ascreambornofterror and despair lodges itself in my throat. Even though my lips are parted, no sound comes out as tears well up in my eyes. Blood rushes to my ears, drowning out whatever sounds Grayson makes as his mouth opens.
Although the shot was barely more than a pop, the sound playing on repeat in my mind is louder than anything else. My eyes refuse to close. Instead, they stay on Grayson. Specifically, the bullet embedded in his shoulder, and the blood gushing from the wound.
I’m shaking as hard as a twig in a storm, and if I wasn’t already on my knees, I know I would fall, unable to stay on my legs.
Fuck!
How did we get here?
How did this happen?
Instead of pulling back, Grayson surges forward, snatching the gun from my trembling hands. After activating the safety, he tosses it to the side and reaches for me.
“No!” I scream, fruitlessly trying to dodge him by throwing myself to the side.
It’s useless, and it only takes him seconds to close his hand around my wrist, using the hold to pull me to my feet. Then he throws me over his uninjured shoulder.
Slamming the door behind him, he marches me over to the bed, tossing me down on the filthy mattress while blood runs from his wound.
If I feared him before, it’s nothing compared to now—now that he actually has a reason to hurt me.
“Please don’t kill me,” I whimper as he swings a leg over me and sits on my thighs. “P-please.”
My heart beats wildly in my chest, and for a brief moment, I wonder if it’s possible for it to shatter my ribcage and break free.
I already know that the people staying here at this dirty, low-rate motel are dodgy as fuck, so the chances of anyone coming to my aid are not just slim to none, they’re non-existent.
Grayson shakes his head. “What the fuck is the matter with you, Princess? Why do you think I’d kill you?”
“Y-you tried to strangle me,” I croak. At the words, my hand automatically moves to my throat, and I rub the sore skin. “I could see it in your eyes… y-you… you weren’t going to let go.”
Although he softens, I still try to recoil when he lifts his hand and gently cups my face.
“I would never hurt you on purpose, Zoe. You have to know that.” After scrutinizing me for what feels like hours, he adds, “What have I done to make you scared of me? Me, of all people. Don’t you know…” Trailing off, he swallows harshly.
Unable to help myself, I snort derisively. Is he serious right now? He fucking held a gun to my head and forced me to suck his cock.
More time passes and I get the sense he’s wrestling with a decision before he finally exhales heavily. Then he moves off me and gestures toward the door.
“You want to be free, Princess?” There’s no emotion in his voice. No anger, disappointment, or… anything.
I watch as he throws his arms out to the side.
“Run, Zo. If you’re fast enough, you might make it out of the door. Hell, maybe even out of this neighborhood. But just know, you’ll never be free of me. I’ll always be waiting in the shadows. You can’t outrun me. You can’t hide from me.”
Zo? Well that’s new. I don’t think I’ve heard him call me that before.
I gulp, overwhelmed with the magnitude of his words.
When I don’t take the opportunity to test the truth of what he’s saying, he takes my hand and hauls me to my feet. As soon as I’m standing, he pushes me against the wall, placing a hand on either side of my face so I’m caged in.
“I’ll always be there, ready to kill any motherfucker who dares to touch you. And if you invite another’s hands on you, I’ll sever every single finger and make a necklace for you.”
