Page 130 of Brassy Bigwig

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHLOE

With my soul crushed beyond repair, Reed cuts me loose. I don’t know how long he had me in that chair, forcing me to do the things he made me do. I tried to go to a happy place in the middle of it all.

I tried to go back to the night D and I spent together in Greece.

“Don’t try anything crazy like running again, Chloe.”

Taking a strong hold on my bicep, Reed helps me up from the chair and walks me to the bed. I would be an idiot to think he’s going to leave me alone and let me go to sleep.

“Get into bed, Chloe.” He points to the mattress using his knife.

I watch him carefully as I sit down. With the knife still at the ready, he reaches into the drawer of the nightstand and pulls out two pairs of handcuffs, tossing them onto the mattress.

“Please don’t,” I beg. “I’ll do whatever you want, just please don’t use those on me.”

“Chloe, I think you and I both know you’re not going to do what I say. It was like pulling teeth to get you to sit in a fucking chair. Then, once the movie began, you repeatedly disobeyed me. I didn’t want to have to threaten to cut you, Chloe, really I didn’t. But you left me no choice.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he rips a length of duct tape from the roll and places it over my mouth again. This time, he reinforces it with two more pieces, making it almost impossible to get off without using my hands.

“It’s a shame I had to do that,” he curls my hair behind my ear as he speaks. “I wanted the chance to kiss you while we make love, but I can wait until you’re more compliant.”

You’ll have to kill me first.

“Take these and place one on each of your wrists.” He tosses me the handcuffs and raises his knife again. “Make sure they’re tight. I can’t have you getting away.”

Reluctantly, I do as he says. When I’ve secured each pair around my wrists, he pushes down on the metal, squeezing them so they’re excruciatingly tight.

“Ahh,” I cry out in pain, but he ignores me.

When he’s satisfied they’re tight, he pushes me back onto the bed and lifts my legs onto the mattress. All I can think about is how glad I am he only cut my shorts from my body earlier. Though I’m sure more of my clothing will be forced off eventually.

I fight the urge to be sick again as I hear him securing the handcuffs to the bedposts above my head. Although choking on my own vomit sounds more appealing than spending one more moment at Reed’s mercy.

“Finally,” Reed breathes as he straddles my body.

The moment he reaches for the hem of my shirt, there is a loud crash somewhere on the floor below us. That’s when I hear him.

“Chloe!”

D. He found me.

I begin to scream as loudly as I can, and I thrash around violently, no longer caring about the knife laying next to me on the bed. D is here, and no weapon will be able to stop him from saving me.

“Ahh!” Reed shouts, irritated he was interrupted. He grabs the knife and holds it to my throat. “I’m going to slice him open and make you watch while he takes his last breath.”

“No!” I scream, knowing even if he could understand me, there’s nothing stopping him now.

I watch as he exits the room and stalks out of sight. Hearing the sounds of the fight and not knowing which one of them is on the receiving end of each attack kills me. I pull at my restraints with no luck. The only thing that does is cut into my skin even more, causing me to bleed.

There is a loud crash as glass breaks and clatters to the ground. Then a few more grunts and bangs before it goes silent for a moment. I hear nothing other than my heart beating as blood pumps rapidly through my veins. That’s when I see him again. Reed. Walking backwards into the room. But D is with him, too.

The sight of him getting dragged across the carpet by Reed, blood gushing from his stomach, is one I’ll never forget. Painful sobs wrack my body as I cry harder than I’ve ever cried before. There’s no way he’s dead.

Wake up, D, please. I need you! I can’t live without you.

With one final drag, Reed picks his body up off the floor and throws him half onto the bed. Holding him in place by his shirt, he smacks his cheeks, trying to wake him up.

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