Page 41 of Born into Darkness

“Okay, we have a plan then,” I say, starting to believe that we might actually make it out of here.

“We have a plan,” Max agrees, but his words are slurred, and when I look down at him, his eyes are even glassier than they have been, and for the first time since having his hand injured, the tension leaves his face, and I swear he lets out a sigh of relief. “This is really good aspirin.”

I grab the bottle, but since I didn’t magically learn Spanish in the last thirty minutes, I still can’t read the label. “I think it might be a painkiller,” I say. Looking back down at him, I add, “A really powerful one.”

Max lets out a soft laugh and reaches up to touch my face. The long, graceful fingers of his uninjured hand caress my cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “I really want to leave this place, but I don’t want to leave you.”

“I don’t want to leave you either,” I tell him, brushing back his hair. He closes his eyes at my touch, a lazy smile playing at his lips, looking more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him.

“Okay, it’s settled then. We’re staying together.” He cracks his eyes open and gives a soft laugh. “I can’t wait to meet your dog.”

I smile down at him. “I can’t wait for you to meet him. I think he’ll like you.”

“I think he’ll see me as competition for your affection,” he murmurs. He’s still stroking my face, but the movements are becoming clumsy.

“There’s room for both of you,” I tell him, watching his eyes drift closed.

“I hope so,svetik moy,” he whispers. His hand falls as the last of his strength leaves him, but before he falls asleep, he says, “Because I’m not letting you go.”

I kiss him and stroke his hair as he falls into a deeper sleep. While he gets a much-needed escape from the anguish he’s been living with nonstop, I eat half a granola bar and drink some water, saving the rest for later. Slipping the metal cuff lightly around Max’s good wrist so it looks like he’s still chained, I grab my own and do the same. Satisfied it would look believable from a distance, I lean my head against the wall and close my eyes, trying to rest. I’m exhausted but too afraid to sleep and leave both of us vulnerable, so I force myself to stay coherent enough to hear the door if it opens.

After enough time has passed that I start to think it might be safe enough to take a quick nap, the sound of the door has my eyes jerking open. I have just enough time to slide the knife under my thigh before Miguel walks in, shutting the door behind him.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” I tell him, wrapping my arm tighter around Max.

I didn’t expect my words to make him turn around and leave, so I’m not surprised when he ignores me and starts walking closer. He runs his eyes over Max, and when he sees how damaged his hand is, he gives a laugh that has me tightening my grip on the handle of the knife.

He points a finger at me and says, “No one to stop me now.”

His accent is thick, but I understand every word, and it has me shaking Max’s shoulder, trying to get him to wake. He doesn’t respond, not even a groan to let me know he’s annoyed at being pulled from his pain-free sleep. He’s completely out of it, and he won’t be waking up any time soon to save my ass.

Not wanting Miguel anywhere near Max while he’s completely defenseless, I keep the knife hidden behind my leg and scoot back as far as I can. Miguel thinks I’m trying to escape him and smiles as he slowly walks closer. I’ve never been more scared in my life. If Mateo hadn’t given me a weapon, I’d be completely at this man’s mercy, but even with the knife, I don’t feel safe. I’m not my brothers. I haven’t been trained to handle this kind of thing, and I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.

“No one to save you now,puta.” Miguel is too focused on being a domineering asshole to notice my cuffs aren’t fully buckled and my hand is still hidden behind my thigh.

“Stay away from me.” I scurry backwards until I hit the wall and there’s nowhere else for me to run to. He sees that I’m trapped and smiles even bigger.

Reaching down, he starts to unbuckle his belt, not even bothering with a weapon since I’m clearly not any kind of threat. I hope like hell I’m able to prove him wrong in a few minutes. My fingers tighten around the handle of the knife as my thumb rests on the button that will spring the blade free. The sickening sound of Miguel’s zipper being undone is enough to steal the breath from my lungs.

My heart is fast and erratic, and the fear coursing through me makes it hard to think. Everything inside me starts to freeze when Miguel stops less than a foot away from me. His large body towers over mine, and all I can think to do is curl in on myself as much as possible. He sees my fear and loves it. A normal man would be disgusted, but the bulge in his unbuttoned pants just grows bigger the harder I cry.

“You sick fuck,” I yell at him, but he just winks and roughly nudges my feet apart. Grabbing my thigh, he holds me still while lowering down. His knees rest on the hard floor on either side of me, locking me in place. With the knife held against my palm, I keep it facing away from him and bring my hands to my stomach. He’s too distracted by the idea of raping me to notice anything suspicious about my movements.

Miguel lets out a disgusting groan of pleasure when he rests his hand by my head and rocks his hips, letting me feel how much he’s looking forward to this. I turn my head to look at Max, but he’s still knocked out by whatever the hell was in those pills. I know he’ll never forgive himself if Miguel manages to go through with this, and that’s why I’m going to make damn sure that grinding against my jeans is the closest he’s ever going to get.

He starts to tug on my shirt, pushing it out of the way so he can paw at the button on my jeans like a fucking animal.

“You’re a fucking monster,” I tell him, and when his dark eyes meet mine, I take the opportunity to slip my hand to the side. My whole body is shaking with what I’m about to do. I’ve never been so scared. I’m terrified of failing and what that will mean for me, but I’m also horrified at the idea of actually sinking this knife into someone. No matter how vile of a man Miguel is, this is going to be horrific, and I’m not entirely convinced I have the stomach for it.

He leaves me no choice when he starts to undo my zipper, though. It’s him or me, and I choose me.

Before I can lose my nerve, I push the button, releasing the blade and plunging it into his neck before he can register what I’m doing. It’s not the smooth maneuver that my brothers could do, but my clunky attempt gets the job done. Miguel screams as the blade sinks in, and I grimace and shove harder, forcing it in to the hilt, cutting him off mid-scream as blood rains down onto me. As soon as he lifts up to grab at the knife, I scoot free and run to Max, keeping my body in front of his to protect it.

The room is filled with a sickening gurgling sound and pained groans. I clamp my hands over my ears, sobbing and trying like hell to not pass out. Miguel stumbles back, loses his balance, and then falls to the floor. He’s had enough training to not pull out the knife, but my stab had been frantic, causing a large gash at his throat instead of a single clean entry point. There’s no way to staunch the blood, and soon his shirt is soaked in it. He tries to use his hands to slow the blood down, but it’s useless, and when his dark eyes meet mine, I can tell he knows it. There’s so much hate in the look he’s giving me, and I shrink back at the sight of it. I know if he could reach me, he would give me the most painful and violent death possible, but he’s so weak, he’s swaying on his knees.

The raspy, gurgling of his breaths come faster before he starts choking on the blood, gasping for air as he keeps his eyes locked on mine. He wants me to see what I’ve done, wants me to watch every agonizing second of his death. I can’t look away. As much as I want to, I can’t bring myself to look away.

He’s a monster, I remind myself. He destroyed Max’s hand, beat him on a daily basis, and just tried to rape me. This is not my fault. I place my hand on Max’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, letting it ground me while I watch the man who made our lives a living hell slowly die. His breathing slows until he slumps onto his side, lacking the strength to even sit up. This time I’m the one who keeps my eyes on his, making sure that I’m the last thing he sees in this world, wanting him to know that I’m the one who ended him.

---