Page 6 of Demons In My Head: Exposing the Exiled
I scanned the view, quickly taking in the people walking around. All of them were dressed in black—either workout clothes or tactical gear. I spotted many Scorpion tattoos, telling me I was right in the heart of their gang headquarters.
This was getting better by the minute. I listened closely and picked up on the faint squawk of seagulls, which told me we weren't far from the actual harbor. Aside from the bed, there was one upholstered sitting chair. I ran back to the closet to see if there were any hangers, but, of course, there weren't.
"Fuck!" I shouted, pissed off and losing myself to the adrenaline that was taking over. I slammed the closet door shut, and my eyes landed on the chair. Lifting it wasn't as easy as I thought it would be, but I was able to get the thing over my head. I was a second away from launching it, full force, at the window when I paused. If this actually worked, and I wasn't exactly hopeful that it would, the gang members outside would spot me immediately. Alarms would sound, and I'd be busted before I even got one foot out the window.
Growling in frustration, I awkwardly set the chair back down. As I moved to step away, my fingers brushed the underside where the thin fabric was stapled to cover the wooden frame. A realization hit, and I quickly flipped the chair onto its side.Tearing through the fabric like I had claws, a wicked grin spread across my face when I found what I was looking for.
Springs. The seat was loaded with thick metal springs! I could go in through the bottom, and nobody would know.
I was most skilled with metal, blades to be exact... and it felt like I actually had a shot now that I had twenty or so weapons at hand. They weren't cheap springs, and it would take some time to remove them from the chair and straighten them out as best I could... but I could do this.
I would because I wasn't going to be Slade's victim ever again. I refused.
The sound of a key being inserted into the door had me flipping the chair upright so fast that it bumped into the wall. My ass hit the cushion as the door was flung open, revealing a woman who made me do a double-take. Her ice-blue eyes scanned me from head to toe, and if they could've cut me, I would've been bleeding out. She was on the taller side for a woman, probably 5'8", and had dark brown hair. Aside from her height, we could have easily passed as sisters. We looked that similar.
I remembered then what he'd said to me in the car, 'I want you to know, I've only been with women who remind me of you.' It was sick and disturbing, the kind of revelation that made you want to scrub your skin with soap and boiling water.
"I had to see for myself," she said smoothly. "The woman who Scorpio is infatuated with."
"It's not mutual," I spat.
She chuckled and shook her head as she closed the door behind her. "My name is Meredith."
Did she think this was social hour? Were we going to have tea and biscuits and talk about the weather? When I didn't respond, she continued, "And you're Palmer."
I lifted a brow.
"Yeah, I know your name. It's not easy to forget when the man you love calls you that as he fucks you."
I grimaced. Fucking sick. This woman must be under his influence, just like I had been.
"Meredith," I started, slow and calm, unsure of how she would react to even something as small as the sound of my voice. "We can get out of here—you and me. You have the key, and you know how everything works here, right? You don't really love Slad— Um, Scorpio," I corrected. "His magic, he's able to control people. Listen, he did it to me. For a long, long time. I was able to get free of him, and I can help you, too."
"He's different now," she insisted, but her voice wavered. "He's changed. Everything he does, he does for love."
I fought back the bile rising in my throat. How many times had I told myself the same lies? How many times had I justified his cruelty as devotion?
"Love doesn't leave bruises," I said softly, noting how she unconsciously touched her wrist. "Love doesn't take away your choices."
"You don't know anything!" She stood abruptly, and I tensed, ready to defend myself. But she just paced, her movements jerky and unnatural. "He saved me. He gave me purpose when I had nothing."
My academy training kicked in, analyzing every detail. The way she spoke, the slight tremor in her hands when she mentioned him. The desperate need to convince me, or maybe herself, that this was love.
"How long has it been since you've made a decision for yourself?" I asked, keeping my voice steady. "When was the last time you looked in a mirror and recognized yourself?"
She stopped pacing, her back to me. I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers twitched at her sides—classic signs of internal conflict.
"He'll kill me if I help you," she whispered, so quietly I almost missed it.
"He's already killing you," I replied, standing slowly. "Just... slower. More insidious. Until one day you wake up and realize you're just a shell he wears like a second skin."
Meredith turned to face me, and for a moment, I saw myself reflected in her eyes. The person I used to be when I was trapped in Scorpio's web of manipulation and control.
"You really got away from him?" Her voice cracked, hope and fear warring in her expression.
"I did." I took a careful step toward her. "And I'll never go back. Neither will you, if you help me. We just have to make sure that he doesn’t get his blood anywhere near me, okay?”
I’d be lost if that happened.
