Page 7 of Beg for Death
"I was just?—"
"You think I give a fuck what you were doing?" I growled. I released his hair just to grab his arm and turn him around. My hand fisted the front of his shirt. The sound of fabric starting to rip filled my ears as I bent him forward forcefully. I raised my hand and my palm crashed against his ass. "I didn't tell you to leave that room." My hand crashed against his ass again. "You do not leave it unless I tell you to." Fire raced across my palm as it cracked against him once more. "Do you understand me?" I snapped.
Felix nodded. "Yes. Yes!" he cried out. "I'm sorry."
"Not yet," I said as I shoved him to the floor. "Crawl," I ordered. "Back to that room. Now. And if I catch you outside of it again? You'll get more than a spanking." I moved after him as he started crawling slowly. "Unlocked doors are not an invitation here. The only option you have for leaving that room is because I said so. I held the door open. "Get in, boy," I said, refusing to use his name. "Next time I have to deal with you? I won't be so nice about it."
I closed the door to his bedroom. Once it was locked, I leaned against the wood. I just had to stay focused. This wasn't about him. It was about me and how good it would feel when I finally tore Jasper into tiny, little pieces.
Chapter Four
Felix
Days of bullshit and I was at my wits end. How in the hell did anyone make soup taste like toilet water?
"What the hell is this?"
The cold, tasteless soup touched my tongue, and not for the first time, my stomach turned at the thought of not eating. What if I refused? I was pretty certain I wasn't going to be able to stomach it again. This was every meal. It was hard enough there were no clocks in my prison cell and the windows were boarded up, erasing any sense of time for me. Every single meal time was the same soup, bread, and water. It was never something different.
Shifting on the bed, the old springs creaked with the movement. The entire cabin was a hellhole. I got a small glimpse of the outside when I was allowed to walk toward the kitchen to return my dishes sometimes. Those small seconds meant more to me than they should have. I felt like I was losing my mind, and I wasn't even sure why I had to go through all this. The piece of bread with my meal was more like a rock as I knocked it against the wall. A few crumbs fell but otherwise stayed in its shape.
"Quiet down in there." My captors voice echoed down the hall and seeped through the wood door, sending chills down my spine.
I dropped the bread and it broke apart even further, making a mess on the hardwood floor. My hands trembled as I stared down at it, too frozen to do anything about it. This was utter bullshit, and yet I was hopeless. The small escape I'd tried had ended in failure. What had I been thinking anyway?
That I needed to get the fuck out.
My stomach twisted as I looked over at the window. It was going to be impossible to make it quiet while removing the boards. Walking was already difficult since the floor squeaked under my weight. Unlike my captor, who was able to move around quietly, I didn't know where to step. I needed to study everything more and pay attention, but the idea of staying longer filled me with ice-cold fear.
How long until someone came to save me? Would anyone ever come? I was starting to doubt that. If Tony hadn't come through by now then no one was going to care. My online friend probably thought I ghosted him or something. The school would most likely write it off as a college kid cracking under pressure and leaving everything behind. It happened more often than people knew. When it came to my father, that man was so engrossed with himself, I knew for a fact he would never look for me. With me gone, he wouldn't have a stain on his life anymore.
My teeth cut into the inside of my cheeks, bruising the spongy flesh more. Pain radiated throughout my body but it wasn't enough to stop the constant racing thoughts. There had to be something I could do. Fire lit up over my middle finger, and I looked down. Without thought I'd been popping my knuckles. It was a habit that I'd been able to manage and slow down after years of medication. If I wasn't careful, I'd focus on one finger and crack it repeatedly with the inability to stop. It could get tothe point of another fracture. I'd fractured three of my fingers over the years.
I shook my hand out, wanting nothing more than the urge to go away. My stomach rolled as realization came to me. I was up and out of the bed in seconds. The food was forgotten as I raised my fists and brought them down hard on the door. It rattled in the frame with each thunderous pound. Sweat beaded my forehead and down the nape of my neck.
"Hey!" My hands ached but I couldn't tell if it was from pounding or from unconsciously hurting myself. "Hey, open the door." Panic made it impossible to think straight. I was so wrapped up in being kidnapped I forgot about the most important thing.
"Have you lost your mind? Maldito idiota. Debería matarlo."Damn idiot. I should kill him.His accent was thick, laying every word as he yanked the door open. His intimidating aura filled the space, making me feel even smaller. I was only a few inches or so shorter than him, but I couldn’t help but flinch when he glared down at me.
I backpedaled. I'd been panicking, but faced with my captor, my tongue felt heavy in my mouth.
"What? The spanking last time wasn't enough?"
Remembering the way my ass had lit up with flames and my spine had tingled filled me with more than embarrassment. Not to mention the way my knees had dragged over the hardwood floor behind him like some animal than the human being I was.
Even thinking about it had strange tingles dancing over my ass. Knots formed in the pit of my stomach that I was all too ready to chuck up to anxiety.
"I have to leave," I said shakingly. Now that I knew what was going to happen to me. I hadn't been off my meds since senior year of high school. And that had literally been the worst year of my life. My dad had ignored all my pleas for help andany explanation the teachers and doctors had given. Apparently, taking me to the doctor, and the fact that I was on his insurance, was an inconvenience for his life. There was no way I could ever forget what I was like off my medication, how hard it was to function, and how disgusted I got with myself. I never wanted to be that low again.
"Are you stupid?" He stepped further in the room, his presence filling it up until it felt like I'd choke. "Boy, what do you not understand? You're stuck here, you won't be leaving until I let you."
Boy this, boy that.I wanted to scream that I had a name. When was the last time someone actually called it?
It was a stupid thing to focus on when I felt like I was a hair away from spiraling out of control. I swallowed, trying to grasp some kind of control I knew I didn’t have. "Please, this is important. I have to get something from my dorm room."
"Like what?" He leaned against the doorframe like this was a casual conversation.
I licked my lips, wishing I'd at least drank some of the water. My mouth felt dry. "Something important, please." Shame was an all-too-familiar feeling when it came to my meds. My father and the people around me had made sure I knew how pathetic I was that I needed them.
