Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“Open the fuckin’ door or I’ll break it down,” he barks, pounding his fists on it, over and over again.
I grip the knife in my hands. I can do this, I can. I just have to turn my mind off. He’s a monster, he is. He kidnapped me and has kept me here for weeks on end. He’s not a kind man, he’s not the kind of man you change. Clenching my eyes shut, I push the door open and without though, shove the knife forward but he’s too fast. He catches my hand and jerks me forward.
The struggle begins, I kick out and manage to get him to release my wrist. I wave the knife away, so he can’t catch me again. We begin a battle of strength and even though he’s stronger than me, I’m determined. I use every ounce of strength I have left to keep him from locking me down. I lash out, kicking him in the shins hard enough to have him jerking back with a roar. He doesn’t release my arm and, instead, pulls me toward him. I lose my footing, he looses his footing, and before I know what’s happening, we’re falling and the knife in my hand glides perfectly into his stomach as we hit the ground.
The sound it makes as it plunges into his stomach is enough to make vomit rise into my throat. I make a rasping sound, but no sound wants to escape my open lips. I get off him, staring down as blood pools and begins to soak his shirt. His hand moves to the wound and he grips it, looking up at me with a mix of shock and pain. For a moment, just a moment, I hesitate. Everything inside of me is screaming to help him, but I can’t. I have to run.
I have to go home.
With a hesitation in my heart that I must fight against, I leap over him and run out of the living room and down the stairs. I find a set of car keys on a table beside the door, and I grab them before rushing outside. My back hurts, my heart aches, and my adrenaline is enough to cripple me but I push on. I press the button on the keys over and over, with trembling fingers, but there are no lights to indicate a car unlocking. Panic grips me. I have minutes, if that, before he gets up and comes after me.
There is no car here.
I drop the keys on the dirt, and I turn and stare out into the darkness. I have to run, it’s the best I can do. The morning will help me out of this mess. If I find a driveway, I might be able to follow it until I reach a road. Then, I can flag someone down. With a deep, shaky breath, I start running. The sound of the front door slamming has me picking up my pace, but I don’t know where I’m going.
A fear I’ve never felt before rips through me and I run as fast and hard as my body can take, but it’s just not enough. I’m being slowed down by trees and pure darkness. Before I can make it to a driveway, or a road, a hard body slams against my back and my body tumbles to the ground, face slamming into the dirt as his heavy weight locks me down. I scream, a mixture of pain and frustration, as the man on top of me growls in pure, raw anger.
I thrash and fight, but it’s no use, he’s too strong, and I’m too god damned tired.
“Let me go, please,” I beg, as he pushes up to his feet, jerking me up with him.
“You fuckin’ stupid girl,” he whispers into my ear, “you’ll regret that.”
“Jagger, please.”
“Do not say my fucking name,” he roars, so loudly my knees give out from beneath me.
I’m broken.
So god damned broken.
“Get up,” he barks, pulling me up. “Get up.”
Using whatever strength it seems he has left, he hauls me to my feet. Pain shoots through my back, through the fresh wounds on my face, and I can’t help the desperate sobs that escape my throat as he pushes me toward the house. The moment we reach the patio, he jerks my hands behind my back to cuff me.
“Stop,” I wail, the pain too much. “Please, stop. Cuff me from the front, I beg you.”
He hesitates, only for a second, before cuffing my hands at the front. Then he shoves my face into the wall and jerks up my shirt. I cry out as the fabric, which has stuck to my skin, is ripped off. Tears roll down my cheeks, the pain unbearable.
“Who the fuck did this?”
“I ...”
“Tell me who the fuck did this or I swear to god, I’ll lose my shit and fuckin’ end you, woman,” he roars into my ear.