Page 76 of Wicked Deceit
Their arms crossed over their chests, and they still haven’t moved or spoken. My guess? It’s either Hadley, Espie, Zoe, or… or Carter who has been here. Carter... Carter, my big, mean, grumpy man. I want him to rush to me, wrap his arms around me, and tell me I will be okay.
“Not very fair, is it?” I taunt, nodding toward my bound arms. I shake my head, huffing another breath.
The burning in my lungs spreads like wildfire, taking every inch of breathing room. With every deep huff or breath, it fans the flames more. So if I need to fight, I’m screwed. Not only will I not be able to breathe, but they also tied my hands behind my back.
“Who the fuck says it needs to be fair, dumbass freak?” Hadley Lacey says with a sneer behind her mask.
Ahh, as I suspected. My number one fan has shown up to beat my ass once and for all—hurray.
“Obviously not you,” I mumble. “You never fight fair, though, do you? Poisoning me, beating me in the hall?” I don't have the energy to keep spouting off, so I heave a breath and prepare myself for the fight I’m about to receive.
This time, a hooded figure steps forward, whipping the robe and mask off, revealing herself to me. Hadley sports a cute bra and matching thong set. Well—I guess it’s cute. Pink. Frilly. Puke-inducing. Gross. Whoever told her to put that on sucks. A girl fight in underwear? How cliche can they get?
Hadley saunters forward with confidence in every step and chin held high. A smug grin takes over her face, and her beady eyes eat me up. A bright twinkle of victory shines in her eyes like she’s won some special prize. Hadley claps her hands together in a small golf-type clap, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. I’m a sweet and tasty morsel strapped to a pole, ready for her to devour with her fists—helpless and vulnerable, the way she likes them.
“This is going to be so much fun,” she giggles with too much enthusiasm, channeling my least favorite psychopath—Piper.
A shrill buzzer sounds over the speaker, and my heart drops into my stomach when she charges forward.
Hadley doesn’t waste any time hammering her fist into every available surface of my body. Ribs. Face. Shit—mostly the face. Pain blooms everywhere on my body, roaring like an inferno. I scream and cry out, but I never beg. I never plead for her to stop what she's doing. Instead, letting her pound her relentless fists into me. Over and over, she fractures bones and snaps cartilage, inflicting as much pain as possible. All the while, her shrieks of laughter and joy echo through the room.
Warmth leaks from my nose and ears, giving me the impression blood is seeping from them. The taste of iron invades my tongue when I lick over a split in my lips. More pain erupts when her knuckles connect with my eyebrow, and I feel the skin tear in half.
My body crumbles to the sodden floor, falling into a whimpering heap. “Fight me like a woman, Hadley!” I hiss from the ground, staring up at her smug face. She twists her fist in her palm, soothing the ache from her punches. “Untie me so I can kick your ass!” I yell, receiving a punishing foot to my jaw. Stars dance in my vision, and my head lolls to the side from the force and then again when a solid piece of metal smacks me in the face. I knock back onto my ass, staring at the sodden floor with blood rushing from my nose. Warm blood pools in my mouth, where I swear one of my teeth wiggles under my tongue. Pain spreads everywhere when I heave a breath, trying to make it subside.
Whatever she hits me with, falls to the floor with a thud. I follow the movement, groaning loudly in pain and hanging my head. Pain ricochets through my entire face with a pounding pain I can't soothe. My weakened heart pounds in my chest, filling my ears. Blood pours from my mouth, dripping onto the sodden carpet. My fists curl behind my back, still stuck to the stupid pole. But enough is enough—I growl to myself.
If she won't give me a fair fight, I'll make her wish she never stepped in this room. I wiggle my wrist in the loosened rope and slip it through. Hadley runs her mouth, pacing back and forth in front of me. I watch her pound her fist into her palm repeatedly through my lashes, babbling about how dead I am.
I ignore her tirade, mentally thanking my guardian angel in a black robe. They looked out for me and helped set me free, whoever they are. Keeping my hand nestled behind me, I search the area for a weapon with my eyes. I keep my head down, letting my limp, wet hair hang in my face. It shields my true intentions as I scan the area around me, looking for anything to get my violent revenge.
Like the board game Clue, I spot my possible weapons across the room. Lead pipe. Hand saw. Hammer. And a rusted wrench just in reach with my blood smeared on the metal. I narrow my swollen eyes at the stupid tools. Geez. Any weapon will do. A chainsaw would do for all I care. Just call this the California Chainsaw Massacre.
Or, we could, if there was a chainsaw in here, and if it wouldn’t call the big men from down the hall, or wherever they are hiding. Right now, I fantasize about chopping her hand off and slapping her silly with it. Can you imagine? Hitting Hadley with her own damn hands. I snort—I must be delirious from the pain lashing through me. Since there doesn’t seem to be any fun tool lying right next to me, the rusted wrench closest to me will have to do. It’ll cause damage to her pretty face.
“I don’t think so, freak. You’re going to be so black and blue by the time they find your body. They won’t even recognize you.” I don’t look up as she cackles some more, rambling about my impending death. That’s right, crazy lady. Keep on talking so I can find something to pound into your face. I focus my eyes on the fiery orange carpet—deep breath in and a deep breath out, drowning out her whiny voice.
Hadley paces in front of me, waving her hands all around. She talks on and on about how stupid and worthless I am. Keeping my eyes on her pacing form and the other two hooded figures in the room, I reach for the wrench as carefully as possible with my left hand. Once it’s secure beside me, I undo my right hand and free myself from the rope.
Now is the time to even the odds.
I wobble to my feet with as much strength as I can muster, swaying, and the room spins, forcing me to hold onto the bar with my free hand. Everything weaves in the room, bright dots take over my vision, and the whole room disappears.
“You never learn when to stay down, do you? You just keep getting up and up—“
“I did it,” I say, shaking my head.
Pain pounds everywhere on my face, especially my jaw, where I can still feel the imprint of her black boot.
“Did what, freak?” She hisses, popping her knuckles.
The corner of my mouth stretches up. “I hacked into your FlashGram account and medical records and told the world what a disgusting vagina you have. It was me," I say, trying not to bite my swollen tongue.
“Holy shit!” A deep, manly voice exclaims from under one of the black masks, distorted and laughing.
“You bitch,” she says through clenched teeth and steps forward. Her back straightens, and she rolls her eyes, throwing her brown curly hair over her shoulder. “Duh. We all knew it was you, anyway. You aren’t as slick as you think you are.” The other figure snorts, earning a glare from Hadley.
“Did you ever get that sorted out?” I slur, my tongue feeling like the size of a truck and as heavy as one, too. My legs shake beneath me, barely holding me up. But I press on, walking forward, weaving on my unsteady legs.
