Page 47 of Grotesque
I was already taking a hesitant step to the side. His hold didn’t tighten, but neither did he let me go.
“For what?” I could hardly breathe. I tried to rationalize that he was not really Death, that his touch would have killed me if he was. Death could not touch a living thing without consequence, without taking something in return.
“To run. When I catch you,” he tsked. He waited until I was trembling beneath him before continuing. “I am going to do all of the terrible things I have promised to you. I am going to punish your cunt again and again….and again.” He hissed out the last word, baring his sharp teeth. “Until you are begging for me to stop.”
How did something so vile make me so wet? I did not understand how my mind and body worked against each other; how I was a puppet to them both. To him.
“If I win,” I started but was abruptly cut off by Corban’s sinister laughter.
“You’re done winning, Sorcha. Better start running.” He flung my wrist away, a movement that jarred me out of my stupor and sent me backpedaling into the island and then the dining table.
“One.”
I didn’t wait another second before I bolted from the room. I hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, looking up then back to the front door. Corban was fast, I’d seen just how fast when he’d chased me the first night. There wouldn’t be a chance in hell I’d outrun him in the open.
I sprinted up the stairs, slamming my bedroom door shut as I passed, then quietly trotted down the hallway to the master bedroom, with its four-poster bed and black duvet. This room screamedominous, but it was the one with the darkest colors, and the only one I thought I might best be able to hide in. I looked around, my eyes landing on the window. A possible escape? Could I hide on the roof?
I could only hope Corban would check my room first to buy me more time.
Closing the door quietly, I moved to the window, then paused.
I am part of it.
Corban’s words from the living room moments earlier snaked through my mind. Perhaps hecouldn’tleave the house after all.
Damn it! I should have headed straight for the front door when I’d had the chance, or better yet, grabbed my car keys.
My mind raced. If I could get out the window and somehow down to the ground, I’d be out of his reach. At least for the moment.
“Ten!” His deep voice echoed through the house, and I lurched back into motion.
My heart stuttered when the window didn’t budge. “You’re fucking kidding me.” I dug my nails beneath the edge, trying to pry it up, but for all the upper body strength I had (or lack thereof), the dried paint holding it shut was stronger.
I whirled when I heard his footsteps on the landing.
“Where oh where could Sorcha be?”
“Fuck,” I mouthed. I stepped to the next window only to run into the same problem. I was wasting too much time.
The creak of my bedroom door opening down the hall sounded in the same moment that the third window shifted.
My adrenaline skyrocketed as I used every bit of strength I had to shove it open. There was barely enough room for me and yet moments later I was forcing my tits through, pulling and kicking until I was hanging halfway out the window staring at the steep decline of the first-floor roof beneath me.
I kept a firm hold onto the windowsill as I turned carefully to slide my legs free. My feet slid against the worn shingles, and I felt my exposed skin burn as it scraped. I reached up, looking for a way to close the window from the outside, but there wasn’t one. Only the person inside could seal it. And that person was staring directly at me, his green eyes full of vicious wrath.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled.
Corban, who had been standing in the middle of the room, was now striding toward me. I scrambled to the left, pressing my palms against the flat wall of the manor as if that would keep me from sliding to my death, or worse. I needed to figure out how to get down without breaking my neck. I rose unsteadily, pressing my chest against the crumbling stone, and looked over my shoulder.
Holy fuck that was a long way down. Maybe jumping down two stories was a piece of cake for some people but for me, who had no clue about parkour or how to absorb the shock of a landing, it looked like a death trap. Still, out here was better than inside with Corban.
“Sorcha, get back inside.” Corban had stuck his head out the window and was properly glaring at me.
“Nope,” I said, barely glancing at him as I looked for a way down. The part of the roof I was standing on dropped off sharply to my left, but the wall just beyond it that stretched from the ground all the way to the turret was covered with ivy. Ivy that was woven tightly through a wooden lattice. I started shuffling toward it. “You said I couldn’t win and I’m going to do exactly that.”
“I’m going to strangle you.”
“Ha! Going back on your word?” I looked back in hopes of catching a glimpse of humor in his expression.
