I drop my hand back down and just focus on my breathing. I breathe through the pain, the nausea, and this situation. I don’t want to lose myself because of him again, but I’m slipping. I can feel it in my soul. I’m tired of living this life.
I push with my free hand to sit up a bit and a cold pain rolls up my leg, leaving me biting back a scream I so desperately want to release. I lean against the headboard in surrender. I focus my mind to my toes and try to wiggle them. I need to know if its broken. I wiggle my toes without much effort. Next is my ankle. I stretch my foot out and the pain immediately appears again, shooting up my leg. I figure I probably sprained it on my way down the stairs. If that’s all that happened, then I’m lucky.
I take in my surroundings and really look at my new room. I’m upstairs now—that, I know for sure. The light is peeking through the blinds. I assume I’m in a spare bedroom. The walls are finished, and I’m in a bed covered with white sheets. There’s a small dresser in the corner big enough to hold a child’s wardrobe and a small night table next to the bed.
He didn’t put me back in the basement. Why didn’t he put me back in the basement?
I lean over to try to peek through the slits of the white blinds on the window, but I end up gasping from the shooting pain. I’m not able to see through them from the bed anyway. Straining to try is not worth the extra pain I cause myself.
The rattle of the doorknob turning gains my attention, and the door slowly creaks open as Marcus comes in. He enters, balancing two small cups in his hand.
“You’re awake. Good.” He stands nearby but not close enough I can reach for him. I remain silent as I stare at him. My voice, my words, feel broken.
“You took quite a fall,” he says calmly, like it was an accident. Like he wasn’t the one who pushed me down the stairs.
He brings the two cups to the bedside table. One is filled with water, and the other looks empty. “I thought you might need something for the pain.”
He brings his hand up to my hair, and I flinch away, pulling on the handcuffs to get as far away from him as possible. I can’t handle his touch, not after the beating I’ve just suffered because of him. His eyes catch a glimmer of light reflecting off of the cuffs.
“Oh, yes. Those. Well, they are necessary to keep you from having another . . . mishap again.” He shrugs his shoulders as he stands. “I’m sure you’ll be better behaved from here on out, won’t you?”
My hatred for this man fuels me as I find my voice and yell, “I’ll never be with you again. I will never love you like I love him!”
His hand moves so fast the sting doesn’t appear for a few seconds after the crack sounds off as his hand meets my cheek. My head whips to the side, and I clench my eyes shut. The pain bounces through my skull, bringing tears to my eyes. I hold my breath to allow myself something to focus on, but the pulse in my cheek pounds up through my temple. Marcus stands unmoving as he watches me suffer, just as he always has.
I meet his eyes, showing my rage as I sneer at him. He’s a shitty excuse for a human being. But I already knew that.
The doorbell rings, interrupting our stare-off. The surprise on Marcus’s face leads me to believe he’s not expecting anyone to show up here. He must not have told anyone where he took me in order to avoid moments like this from happening—from someone finding us.
Quickly he moves to the table next to the bed and reaches into the small drawer. He pulls out a roll of duct tape and rips off a piece just as fast. Before I can push him away, he slaps the duct tape across my mouth and rips another piece to secure my free hand to the headboard. I squirm and try to scream but the reality is, it’s duct tape. All I’m doing is making myself sweat.
“Shut up. You need to shut up. I don’t want to hear a peep from that pretty mouth of yours.” He grabs my chin from underneath as he tips my face up towards his and bends slightly to look me in the eye. He smiles at me, and he appears so evil. “Do you understand me?”
My pretty little mouth wants to bite his fucking head off for causing all the pain coursing through me.
He tugs my chin again, the smile disappearing from his face. “Do you?”
Tears threaten to spill as I nod my head, unable to speak or do anything besides count my heavy breaths. He walks out, closing the door behind him, and leaving me in this room alone with my thoughts. I drop my head back to the headboard and wince as a dull ache snakes its way around to my temples.
I hear the squeak of a door opening and it’s not long after that the shouting comes. I can’t make out the words, but the shouting doesn’t last long before the door slams, rattling the walls.
The door to my room flies open so hard it slams into the wall. I’m pretty sure the doorknob went through the drywall and left a nice sized hole.
Marcus comes bursting in with his hands laced on top his head and paces the end of the bed. “He wants to come for you? He can come. I won’t let him have you. You’re mine.”
Marcus’s wild eyes practically bug out of his head as he continues his pacing. There’s only one person I know of that could make Marcus lose it like this. “They think they can beat me? No one can beat me. They won’t. I’ll make fucking sure of it.”
It’s Jesse. It has to be.
Marcus turns to face me and rips the duct tape from my mouth so fast that my skin is left raw and burning. “Your little gang is looking for you. But they aren’t looking in the right places, the stupid fucks. We’re leaving in an hour. He won’t find you.”
“What did you think would happen? There are people who care about me, who actually love me!” My yell is full of rage, but I actually find myself laughing.
Marcus sneers at me through a clenched jaw. He’s not pleased with my laughter and watches me skeptically. “What are you laughing at?”
“You.” I laugh louder. “You are in so over your head, it’s hilarious. See, what you still don’t seem to understand is that people will do a lot for the ones they love. And fortunately for me, I have a whole family who loves me. You won’t win this one. They will come for me. And when they do, I hope you don’t make it out alive.”
Marcus’s lip curls up in a snarl as he inches closer to my face. “I’ve already handled his little fucking sidekick. Every time you fight me, one of them hurts. Every time he tries to find you, you hurt.”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps on the screen for a few moments before pushing the screen close to my face. A video is playing. Two guys are holding a guy up by his arms between them as another guy punches his body repeatedly. I watch with every swing as the guy’s face bleeds more and more, until the guy looks up, bares his bloody teeth and spits a mouthful of blood at the guy punching him. The video has me frozen as I watch. The flash of blonde hair, the face, and the body . . . I’d know that person anywhere, even as bloody and bruised as he is.
It’s Cason. My sweet, sweet Cason. Where’s Jesse? Or anyone? Someone has to help him.
“What did you do? You son of a bitch! I hate you! I fucking hate you!” I scream as the sobs start wracking my body.