Page 52 of Firethorne
Firethorne huffed and came to stand over me.
“I’ll give you ten minutes out of these restraints,” he said. “But don’t fucking try me.”
I nodded as he unbuckled the straps on my legs, feeling relieved that I was able to move my legs back onto the bed. Then he untied the strap on my body, and finally the ones around my wrists. But if he thought that in my weakened state, I would be docile and obedient, then he was wrong.
Instantly, I shot up, kicking my legs into action and jumping off the bed. He made a grab for me, but I was so desperate to escape I managed to evade his grasp and lunge for the open door.
As I sprinted past Beresford, who was struck dumb in the hallway, reacting too slowly to put his arms out and catch me, I heard Firethorne bellow, “Stop her.”
My legs burned as I raced down the corridor, running a marathon for my life, aching to be free. And suddenly, in front of me, Lysander appeared, and I ran right into him, gasping as I stared up at him, begging him, “Please. Please help me. They’re hurting me. They’re going to send me away. You have to help me.”
Lysander frowned. “What’s going on?” he asked, as Firethorne hollered down the hallway, “Don’t let her go. Hold her.”
“You were right,” I said through panted breaths. “I can’t trust them. They lied to me. But I know... I know you weren’t lying. Please.”
“What are you talking about?” Lysander asked as he held me by the tops of my arms.
I didn’t have time for this.
“The sketch. The warnings. You need to help me.”
Even after everything I’d seen tonight, I still believed Lysander would help me.
I could feel danger hurtling towards me. Firethorne was right behind us. But when Lysander said, “What warnings?” the bottom fell out of my world.
“Hold her,” Firethorne shouted.
“I’ve got her,” Lysander replied, and his grasp tightened, painfully so.
“No,” I begged, pleading as I stared at him, but he wasn’t going to save me. He was holding me for his father.
So, I did what any sane person would do.
I kneed him hard in the balls, and when he let go of me to grab his crotch, I ran. I fucking ran down that hallway without looking back.
My bare feet pounded the wooden floor, my hands grabbing for the rail as I reached the stairs, and I flew down the steps, barrelling forward, praying the front door wouldn’t be locked.
I could hear them coming after me as I raced across the foyer, heading for the door. When I reached it, I grabbed the handle, turned it, and to my relief, it opened and I shot out of the house, running down the sandstone steps in the cold night air.
My bare feet ached as I shot across the gravel drive, but I didn’t care; I’d have raced over broken glass to get away from this house. I ran in the direction of the iron gates that I’d driven through a matter of weeks ago, figuring I could scale a wall, climb the gates, do anything to get myself off this estate to freedom. The Victorian lampposts that’d been lit when we’d arrived that night weren’t lit up tonight. Instead, they stood like shadowed guards, watching my plight, bearing witness to my escape. I ducked to the side, running across the grass, willing my legs not to buckle as my feet screamed in pain, and then, I felt like I’d been hit by a truck as something charged into me, knocking me to the ground.
I face planted the grass as someone made a grab for me, trying to pin me down. But I fought them; I fought so fucking hard to break free, to crawl away from them. I kicked my legs and flailed my arms, but the weight of their body stopped me from gaining any traction.
Then a deep voice muttered in my ear, “You can stop running now. I’ve got you.” And I felt a sharp prick in my neck before my world turned to darkness for the second time that night.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Maya
My head was swimming.
I felt sick.
I was confused, disorientated, and I had no fucking idea where I was or what’d happened to me.
I lay still, taking stock of my surroundings before I dared to open my eyes. My head was on a soft pillow. The room smelt fresh, and the mattress I lay on was comfortable. There was a duvet over my body, but I was still wearing my T-shirt. Apart from a pounding head and a little soreness from escaping, I wasn’t hurt. Not in the way I’d feared I would be.
Slowly, I opened my eyes, squinting slightly from the light, even though the blinds on the windows were closed. I’d never been in this room before, and thinking of the dangers that lay in wait for me here made my heart rate spike and fear flood my system. I needed to stay alert.
