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I keep moving.
Her chest rises heavily up and down.
I’m now just a few steps away, hand reaching forward.
Paige drops the bags and darts away, her long braid smacking against her back with each footfall. Sighing in exacerbation, I take off after her. Warring feelings of lust, rage, pride, and worry crash inside of me, building up a tumultuous storm.
This woman is going to be the death of me, I can already feel it. But what a sweet and glorious end. I would choose to lay down my life a thousand times over just for a moment with her existence.
May the devil help the world once I have a taste of her.
Chapter 8
Paige
Breathing heavily, I curse myself for skipping leg day. Okay, fine, skipping everything day. I don’t work out, and I’mreallystarting to regret that.
At first I was relieved because I didn’t hear anyone behind me but when I had to pause to heave in a breath, the sound of pounding footsteps much to close filled my ears and I took off again. Sobs keep trying to build but I shove them down with everything I have. If I start crying, I’m going to trip and fall. I need to keep a level head and figure a way out of this. There’s got to be something.
My eyes dart back and forth across the empty streets. All the stores have already closed and employees left for the evening. A desperate noise leaves me, eyes still searching for anywhere I can duck away and hide.
I don’t want to die, I’m not ready. I just got my life back and, sure, I haven’t exactly been living but I can. If I make it through this.God? Goddess? I don’t know, Buddha? Anyone? I would really, really,reallyappreciate it if you helped me not die tonight at the hand of some crazy person. I don’t know what to offer but I can promise I’ll try to do something more with my life if you help me out of this alive.
Huffing, I feel the tears prick at the corners of my eyes and know I won’t be able to hold them off much longer.
Then, up ahead, I see a bar lit up. I swear there’s a glow around the entrance, like a beam of holy light inviting me in answer to my desperate pleas. I sob and send out a silent thank you and push my legs harder. Waving my arms desperately as I get closer in hopes someone will step out and come to my aid.
I run harder, pushing with all of my remaining strength, closing the distance.
I’m only a few blocks away now. I’ve got this. I can make it. I’ll run inside and call for help. Just a little farth-
A scream is ripped from my throat as arms encircle my waist and yank me back into a hard body, the sound abruptly cut off as a large hand clamps over my mouth. I twist and kick, flinging my body around, futilely trying to free myself. Despair washes over me, snuffing out any remaining hope I had as I slump in defeat. The hand on my mouth shifts up and two fingers pinch my nose while still covering my lips. My eyes bulge as I try to drag in a breath, but it’s useless. This stranger is too big, too strong, too determined.
With one last attempt to free myself, I jerk against the hold.
Darkness clouds my vision and I slip away.
I wake with a gasp and suck in a large breath.
I’m alive.
Relief only lasts for a few seconds as I try to sit up and find my body won’t move. Panic sets in as I start yanking my arms and legs only to meet resistance. I lift my head and look down at my body. My legs are stretched apart and each ankle strapped to a bedpost. A quick glance shows my arms are similarly bound. My heart rate accelerates and my breaths speed up.
I’m chained to a bed. I’m fucking strapped down on some psychos bed.
I notice that my clothes are still intact but can’t find it in myself to feel any relief at the realization.
I wildly look around the room. It’s a large room with minimal decorations. Dark neutral tones of black and gray make up the majority of the space with speckles of deep red scattered throughout. Craning my head back, I see a large painting hanging above the bed and suck in a harsh breath. It’s beautiful but something about it makes a shudder run through my body. I’m transfixed on the image, a familiarity tugging at the back of my mind.
The frame is midnight black, the canvas itself stark white. Speckles of crimson decorate the canvas. Several larger spots fill the center, a depth to them with darker hues running inside the pools.
As I continue staring at the disconcerting painting, I realize why it looks so familiar.
All the larger pools form around each other to build a heart. An anatomical human heart.
My eyes widen further.
This is sick. Like, needs professional help, sick. And I’m stuck here with the person who decided to hang a bloody heart painting above their bed, tied up to said bed.
