Page 52 of WITSEC
Ten more steps until I reached the front door…nine more steps…eight more…
The wood floor creaked under the weight of my foot. My whole body tightened up as the sound echoed through the silent house. With my heart booming in my ears, I took a quick look around, bracing for him to jump out. When he didn’t, I zeroed in on the front door. It was my only hope—my only way out. I rushed the remaining distance, my pace quick and no longer quiet. I lifted my hand, reaching for my freedom.
My fingers barely brushed the doorknob when a hand grabbed me by my hair and yanked me back. I let out a loud, broken scream as my back collided with the front of Mr. X’s body.
“I can’t let you go.” His cold voice was devoid of emotion.
That made me pause. In the nick of time, I saw his knife coming up toward my throat. I caught his wrist and forearm with my hands before the knife could reach me.
He pulled my head back harder, exposing my throat. I let out a strangled grunt as I fought against his strength. His knife inched closer and closer as my arms weakened.
Think!
I took the risk of looking around, desperate to find anything that would help me. There was nothing close.
Think! What would Logan do?
I thought back to the few self-defense moves he had taught Shayla and me on our last trip to Texas. We had been at the beach. The memory of Shayla’s laughter echoed in my head; she’d pretended to stomp on Logan’s instep and dropped to the sand, squealing as she’d crawled away from him. Shehadn’t taken Logan’s lesson seriously but had humored him nonetheless.
I pulled myself back to my horrific reality. With the last bit of strength I had, I pushed Mr. X’s blade back a little, then slammed my foot down on his. The moment his grunt reached my ears, I dropped to the floor, losing a good chunk of hair in the process. I refused to let the burning on my scalp slow me down. I shot back to my feet and hurried for the door.
“No!” he bellowed behind me before a searing pain sliced across my shoulder blade. Crying out, I stumbled and fell against the door. I grabbed the doorknob to keep me from falling completely to the ground. I twisted it, the door swung open, and I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin for only a breath before his arms locked around my waist. Lifted into the air, I thrashed and screamed as loud as I could, hoping anyone might hear me with the door open.
Then I was airborne.
The air was knocked from my lungs as my spine slammed against the wooden stairs. Mr. X braced himself above me by holding himself up with one hand on the step behind my head. “You are mine!” he roared in my face. Spittle hit my cheeks and his rancid breath filled my nose.
My breath hitched. Not from the smell. But from the excruciating pain that exploded in my stomach.
He had stabbed me.
His knife was buried in my stomach. Time slowed as he withdrew. His eyes were dilated, emotionless, pitch-black depths as he stared down at me. Blood clung to his black and gray stubble along his jawline and chin. “No one else can have you,” he said, sounding detached as he plunged the knife back into my stomach.
I didn’t know why I put my hands on his shoulders as he withdrew the knife again. I didn’t know why I met his eyes orwhy I asked him, “Don’t you love me?” I didn’t know what had possessed me to say that, but it made him pause and I could have sworn I saw regret in his eyes.
I took that as my chance to ram my knee between his legs. He made a choking noise. His hand that was holding him up gave out and he fell on top of me. Shoving him to the side, I rolled off the stairs to the floor. With a hand pressed to my bleeding abdomen, I forced myself to my feet.
I made it out the open front door into the blinding sunlight. “Help me!” I screamed that over and over again as I ran across the lawn and climbed over the wall of bushes that served as a fence between our yard and our neighbor’s. Blood was leaking down the front of me and soaking into my jeans.
I will make it.
I will make it.
I told myself that over and over as I ran to my neighbor’s front door. With bloody hands I rang their doorbell a dozen times. I left bloody handprints on their front door as I pounded on it until it finally opened.
The moment the elderly couple saw that it was me and that I was hurt, they let me inside. I only made it into their home a few steps before everything seemed to shut down. My legs gave out and I fell to their floor. I had fought. I had gotten out. I had nothing left. In every sense, apart from my life. I had that. As I lay there bleeding out on my terrified neighbors’ floor while they called the police, I wondered if it had all been worth it.
Chapter Sixteen
The four ofthem were quiet as they processed every detail I’d given them from that night.
While they did, I marveled at the fact that I had not needed a drink. I hadn’t been forced. That night had been what I would consider the worst level of hell and I’d bared it to them on my own. It was sometimes hard to see progress when it came to healing. What I had just done was progress impossible not to see.
Colt took my hand. “I’m proud of you, babe.”
The others voiced that they were as well.
“Do you think the fight for your life was worth it?” Knox asked.
