Page 93 of Creep

I didn’t even know how I had gotten up here instead of out there, and now it was too late.

Too fucking late.

I turned around just as a large shadow fell over me.

His blue eyes glared down at me, his hands on his hips. “Didn’t I tell you not to cause trouble, boy?”

I swallowed, shaking my head, hoping words—any words—would come out and save me.

Nothing came out. I felt like I might just puke out what little lunch I had earlier in the day if I attempted to speak.

His face scrunched up in disgust.

“At this point, it might be more trouble keeping you alive.”

I blinked, trying so hard not to cry and not knowing which choice I would make had he given me one. To continue living in this hellhole, to survive day in and day out, hoping, wishing, and praying Theo and I would make it out of here, or for him to just fucking kill me and get it done and over with.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair, reeling me in close to him.

I let out a pained cry, trying to curb it as my hands reached up and tried to pry his much bigger hands off me. It was no use. It was like trying to pull out a nail that had been set in concrete with your own fingers. Fucking useless.

“Please,” I begged. It didn’t matter that begging was the last thing I wanted to do.

His hot, alcoholic breath fanned my face. He didn’t usually drink. No, he was much more controlled than that, but the asshole had been in a mood lately.

I thought I heard him mutter something about someone dying.

It was hard to believe he actually had a heart capable enough of caring for anyone, let alone trying to drown out his sorrows because they died.

Whatever the case was, he was drunk, and he was usually a mean drunk.

“I’m going to fucking punish you for this, boy.”

He shoved me near the ledge of the railing. I got a hold of the edge in time. Any later and I might have just plunged down to the factory floor.

My heart pounded in my chest as I took in the distance. The drop wouldn’t have killed me, but it would have hurt. I would have broken something, and having a broken body would have left me defenseless to all the men who came in and out of this factory on a daily basis.

I felt his hands grab at me.

I turned around and looked up into his eyes once more. Identical blue eyes to my own. To Theo’s eyes.

His hand grabbed at my pants. I struggled against him, trying to kick my legs out, hoping it would connect with something hard enough, painful enough, that he would let me go.

“No!”

“Quiet, boy. Or things are going to get worse for you.”

He pressed my legs down on the perforated metal floor, bearing his weight down until it hurt.

I closed my eyes.

I couldn’t fight him off. There just wasn’t any fucking way.

“Baby, come back to me.”

I stirred from the familiar voice coming from somewhere above me, a voice filled with light and hope.

“It’s okay. I’m here. Come back. You’re having a nightmare. Wake up.”

---