Page 51 of No, For An Answer
“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Tears begin to build in his eyes.
“Oh, I won’t touch her. I’ll have my friend who’s roaming about this house as we speak, go over to where she is and kidnap her. Then I will have him bring her back here and fuck her in front of you. All while you watch.” I clear my throat. The corner of my mouth curving as I continue.
“Thenyoucan see her scream and cry and know that there is nothing you can do to help her. While he ruins her little body. Tarnishing any chance of a normal life. BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT YOU DID TO HER!!!” My throat burns with all the anger I’ve kept locked up in my body. All the pain I’ve felt day in and day out for the past twelve months. All the rage and hate and disgust and… Shame that I feel every single fucking day.
I wasn’t there to save her.
“So, Jesse get on your fucking knees and suck his cock. And if you suck it good enough,” I grin. “I might not kill you.”
Jesse closes his eyes. “FUCK!!!” his voice gruff. Trying to sound like he isn’t petrified, when I can see the fear written all over his pathetic face. “Ashley… Fuck!” He shouts again, struggling to get to his knees. “Look, I’m fucking sorry ok. I didn’t… I was angry I-”
“So, you raped her?” I look at Nathan as he stares down at Jesse, shaking his head in disgust. “You were pissed off because I was fucking Fran, so instead of calling me out on my shit, you raped someone who had nothing to do with it.” I don’t evenrealise what’s happened until Jesse hits the floor and blood spills from his nose. I snap to Nathan, his hand shaking in a tight fist.
“That was unexpected.” I nudge the gun in Jesse’s direction, my eyes still fixed on Nathan as his chest heaves in and out. “Keep going.” This might actually be better than I anticipated. Jesse looks between us, spitting blood from his mouth just before Nathan stands over him, his shirt twisted in his hand. Dragging his arm back, he makes a tight fist and begins beating the shit out of Jesse.
Over and over again, he rains down blow after blow on Jesse’s face. The crunch of Jesse’s ocular bone as it breaks, has him bellowing out in pain. His skin splits and cracks, blood splattering everywhere.
“You!”
Punch.
“Fucking!”
Punch.
“Asshole!!”
Punch.
There is hardly anything left of Jesse’s face as he lays there twitching on the carpet. With him being hit in the same spot continuously, his eye has popped out of the socket. Gargling reverberates from Jesse’s throat, and he chokes on his final breath.
“Holy shit!” I burst out laughing. Nathan stumbles back as he falls against the bed. “I think,” I take a few steps forward and look down at his lifeless body. “I think you killed him.” The moment I turn around, my head snaps to the left and I hit the floor with a crunch. Swinging his leg back, I watch in slow motion as he kicks me in the stomach. Pain exploding as I cough through the pain.
“You stupid bitch,” he breaths. “Get the fuck up.” Squeezing my upper arm, he yanks me to stand. “Did you think I was going tolet you get away with pulling a gun on me?” The minute I’m up on my feet, he thrusts me forward into the sideboard. The sharp corner of the wood biting into my ribs and I feel a crack.
Fractured rib maybe.
Twisting his hand in the thick cotton of the hoody he drags me from the sideboard and tosses me to the wooden floor. Laughter bursts from my chest as I watch him stalk back over to me. His face a deep crimson filled with deep rage. Lifting me from the floor with his free hand, the back of his hand smacks against my cheek.
“You think this is fucking funny!” he bellows. “Pulling a gun on me!” He smacks me again, harder this time. “I’ll kill you and you can join your stupid fucking friend!” Nathan lets go of the hoodie, my back hitting the ground again. Pressing myself up, with what little energy I have left, I smile. Tasting the blood in my mouth.
“I think,” I take a deep breath, slowly crawling backwards from him. “That maybe I’m not the only fucking psycho in this equation.”
“That little prick had it coming. He had me under his thumb for a year.” Shrugging, he crouches down in front of me, a look of disgust forming on his face. “I just needed the right time to get rid of him. Then low and behold you helped me do it.”
“You’re welcome.” I spit blood in his direction, laughing. “Clearly needing a woman to do a man’s job. Typical.” I wince in pain. Bending down, he picks up the gun, sliding it in the back of his waistband and lurches forward, grabbing for my ankles. Dragging me between his legs, before I have a chance to move, he wraps both hands around my neck. Squeezing.
“Too much fucking mouth on you.” The muscles in his jaw tightened with every word that spills from his gritted teeth. Spit splaying from his teeth. Soon, my chest begins to burn with the lack of oxygen flowing through my lungs. I can feel my faceturning red, the veins popping in my forehead. My legs begin to kick underneath his thighs and I claw at the muscular hands encasing my throat.
If he kills me now, nobody will ever know what happened. Nobody will be brought to justice. He will blame me, call me a psycho, and let everyone believe I was crazy. I can’t allow that. I allow my eyes to flutter, giving the illusion I’m about to pass out. If he holds on any longer then I will. For the first time, I’m scared. I’m petrified I won’t be able to finish what I started.
“Stay with me, love,” he whispers close to my ear. Unlatching his hands from my throat. I heave, sucking in the deepest breath I can. “You won’t die yet.” The sweet feel of air running through me spurs me on.
“You should’ve killed me,” I choke, my voice harsh and my brain groggy. The black spots start to clear from my eyes, and my breathing begins to slowly return to normal. “You won’t like what happens when I get hold of you.”
His head drops back as his chest rumbles with a deep, dark laughter. Clapping his hands together in applause. “Empty threats kid. I’m the one with the gun now. And when I’ve fucking shot you, I’ll call the police myself and tell them you lost your fucking mind, became obsessed with me, and went on a little killing spree.” He stands, looking down at me like he’s won.
“Typical.” I scoff. Crawling backwards with every word he speaks; I pray that I’m in the right spot to grab what’s under the bed.
