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He drops my head, slamming my face back on the floor against the blood produced from my suffering. A sickness rises in my throat, its power so strong I choke on my own vomit.
Just keep breathing.It’ll be over soon.
I close my eyes needing to shut off my brain for what’s about to happen. He pulls down his zipper, the rasp so loud it resounds in my head. “On your knees,” he demands. I try to move as fast as I can but the agonizing pain in my face slows me down. My body shatters with maddening cries.
“I said on your fucking knees.” Losing patience, he grips my hips and lifts them up as his fingers dig into my flesh. Once he has me positioned the way he likes, he slams his full penis into me. My fingers clench and I scream, gagging on the shirt, but no one can hear me. I hurt everywhere but I focus on the large drops of blood pouring out of my face instead.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
I count each one. How much blood can a person lose before it gets to be too much?
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Will he leave me here after he kills me? Or will he find somewhere to hide my body? I hope my loved ones aren’t the ones to find me. I don’t want that for them.
“Fuuuck.” He finally finishes as I reach sixty-eight. That number will be carved into my consciousness for as long as I live.
Before I even have a chance to recover from what he just did, he flips me over. Looking straight into my eyes, I see no regret, just remnants of a wild storm that’s not fully satiated.
He lifts his arm and more pain rips through my face as he slams his fist into my cheek. “You couldn’t even pretend to enjoy it? I bet you would’ve if his dick was fucking you, you dirty whore!” His words rip at my insides while his hands destroy whatever’s left of my outside. The burning pain across my face is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s as though he’s hammered my face into the ground.
The blood leaks into my throat and I begin to gag. Just keep breathing. You’re still alive. But my chest is too heavy.
He stands up and my eyes follow him as he walks to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door, his back to me. This is my chance. I can make a run for it. All I have to do is crawl a short distance toward the door, then run like hell. The need to live gives me adrenaline I didn’t have minutes before.
I remove the blood-soaked shirt from my mouth and slink slowly across the floor as quietly as a child afraid that her mother will catch her doing something bad.
Almost there.
Just another inch.
Once I reach the door, I climb up, but my legs are so wobbly I almost fall. I steady myself holding on to the knob and I twist the lock open, when suddenly a loud smash, like that of glass breaking, causes me to spin back around.
I pound on the door and scream for help just as he picks up a piece of a broken plate and runs at me. “You bitch!” I’m panting, trying the knob but it won’t budge.Open, damn it!I manage to bang on the door a few more times before he jerks me away and throws me up against the wall. He presses the sharp edge into my neck, and I feel a slight pinch, knowing he cut me.
“Go ahead you son of a bitch, do it!” I yell, finding strength I didn’t know I had. “You can’t kill someone who’s already dead!”
He drops the weapon and clutches my neck in his fist. “You don’t know what death is, but you will.” He bashes the back of my head into the wall and my vision goes blurry as he drops me onto the floor.
Someone pounds at the door and then a man says my name, but it’s a distant sound, like a dream. I flicker in and out of consciousness as the same voice says my name again, closer now, but I don’t recognize it. Gentle hands pick up my head, and I hear more words being spoken but I can’t make them out.It’s too late,I want to tell him. But instead, I close my eyes surrendering to the darkness.
Chapter 19
Damian
How long is this damn date? It’s almost ten and I haven’t heard from her yet. Maybe he forced her to sleep over. She’s probably scared. I pace back and forth, unable to calm my nerves. She’s fine, I keep telling myself, she has to be.Even knowing Logan is watching her doesn’t relax me. I should’ve had him plant a camera inside the bastard’s home. I told Logan to break down the door if he hears any suspicious noise coming from inside. No news must mean good news, at least I fucking hope so.
I’m so close to losing my mind, I’ve even considered going by the house myself. But if Ash sees me, it’ll put her in jeopardy, and I won’t risk her life. I already took a gamble by threatening him and I refuse to do it again.
If something happens to her, I won’t survive it. She’s got my heart in her soft, little hands and if she dies, it dies with her.Fuck. She’s not gonna die. I have to stop thinking that way.
