Page 89 of Pretty Little Fears

Lookingaround the room,Ispot a photo sitting on the bedside table.Ipick it up and inspect its contents.Basedon the photo thatElisent us, this is his room.Onlysomeone as egotistical asLorenzowould have a photo of himself on his bedside table.Iscoff while setting it back down.

Whata fucking prick.

Thesound of the running water stops, causing my head to snap in thedirection of what must be the bathroom door.Movementof shuffling and closing of drawers sounds from the other room.Imake my way around the room and go to stand behind a large dresser that’ll shield me from his view.

Thepiece of shit makes his way out of the bathroom stark naked, strolling towards his closet.Likea predator becoming alert to another predator in his territory, he freezes.Hedoesn't have time to defend himself beforeI'mout and aiming the gun at his head.Alreadystopped in his tracks, he quickly goes to reach for whatIcan assume is a gun of his own.Beforehe gets the chanceI'mtaking aim and shooting him straight in his useless excuse of a dick.

Iwant to shoot him in the head and watch him bleed out butIneed to know where he’s holdingBlair.Shemight not even be here for allIknow.Helets out a roaring shout, reaching down to salvage his dismembered appendage. “Wherethe fuck is she?!”Ishout over him.Hedoesn’t answer me as curses spew from his mouth.Iraise my arm, getting ready to shoot him again.

BeforeIcan act,Ifeel the slight prick of a needle in my neck andIquickly succumb to the chemicals being pumped into my arteries.

FUCK!

Myeyesopen andIam abruptly made aware of my situation.Mybody is trying to alert me of a known presence butI'mtoo focused on my trapped limbs.Mywrists are cuffed, attached to long chains that are connected to the wall.Thefucking irony of theamount of peopleIhad in this same position thatI’mnow in, doesn’t go unnoticed.

It'snot lost on me thatI'vebeen in this situation before, either.ButwhenIlook at the wall,IknowIwon’t be able to punch and yank my way out of this one.Mybreathing starts to become shorter.I’mfucking trapped.HowwillIget toBlairifI’mfucking trapped?Thesmell of vomit fills my nostrils every timeItry to inhale.

Tryingto drink in a breath of air alerts me to the feeling of a large metal collar lining my neck.Thiscan’t be happening again.Motherfucker.Fuck!

FUCK.

Itisn't until there’s a slight movement in the corner of the room, thatIrealizeI'mnot alone.Mybody was trying to tell meIhad company but the thought of being trapped and unable to get toBlairclouded it.Myhead snaps in that direction and my heart sinks to my feet.

Thereshe is.Mylittle obsession.She'sbruised, bloodied, and naked but she's here.She'salive.

Ican finally fucking breathe again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

BLAIR

Ijoltawake when the sound of my name being said on repeat fills my subconscious.Theclanging of chains that aren’t my own have me sitting up too fast, making me dizzy.Myvision is spotty as white dots pace in front of me.Tryingto see through them, my breathing halts as my eyes attempt to focus on the figure in the room andIseeEmmett.

Thatcan't be him.

Hewouldn't be here.

It'sbeen days with barely any water or food,Imust be seeing things.Iwas drugged.Theeffects must have not worn off.Hisblurry form comes closer to me, dropping to its knees and reaching a hand out.Tryingto touch me.I'mflinching away as my hallucination speaks. “Littleobsession?”

Fuck.I'mgoing fucking crazy.

Mymind is making its own torture to replace the true horrorsI’mliving.Myhallucination continues talking andIcan't takeit.Ican see its lips moving but with the force of my heart thumping against my chest cavity,Ican’t hear it anymore.Isit up and scoot as far back asIcan, pulling my knees up to my chest.

Coveringmy ears with my handsIstart chanting, trying to drown out the voices.

“No, no, no, no!It'snot real, he’s not real.”I'mrocking in place as tears start to roll down my cheeks.Iwish he was here.Iwish this were real.Mysafe space in my mind no longer feels safe with the tricks it's playing on me.

Iwish the safety he brought me could calm the panic currently lacing my skin.TherealEmmettwon't want me anymore once he knows whatI'vebeen through.He’llthinkI'mdirty and used.Hewouldn't be here to save me.It'snot real.

He’s.Not.Real.

“He’snot real, he's not real, he's not real.”Ikeep trying to shake away the hallucinationI'mhaving by reminding myself of the truth untilIfeel a hand wrapping around my wrist.Startledby the soft touch,Iscream at the top of my lungs, the action causing my voice to crack.

“Blair, baby, it's me.Please, please calm down.”Hewon't let go.Whywon't he let go?Heneeds to let go of me.

Fuck, this is not good.

Itall feels too real.MaybeI'mdying?

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