Psycho (The Line Walkers #2)

33. Chapter 33 – Olivia

Chapter 33 – Olivia

W hen I woke up, I was disoriented and confused about what happened before waking up on the bed, but it all flooded back to me when my stomach tightened painfully, making me cry out in pain. I curled myself into a ball, trying to grip my stomach to relieve the pain, but my wrists caught as I tried to pull them away from the sides of the bed. I lay in the middle of the bed, restrained on my back with my arms tied down at my sides.

It was then that I saw the IV in the back of my hand and the bag of fluid hanging above me on an IV pole, feeding something into my body against my will.

“No!” I cried out, feeling like my body was splitting into two as the wave of pain crested and then started diminishing to a dull ache.

I was alone in the room as I cried out again in pure horror, realizing they had induced my labor while I was unconscious.

With my baby’s impending birth, a chilling sense of vulnerability overwhelmed me; I couldn’t protect her or even myself. I fought the bindings around my wrists, using strength and willpower I didn’t recognize to free myself to save my baby. If I got free, maybe I could stop the labor at least, or slow it down and buy some time.

Another contraction hit me like a tidal wave, starting slowly and building until I was crying out again. But I used the pain in my stomach to distract me from the pain in my left wrist as I pulled against the bindings so hard something popped and then my hand slid free. I gasped, biting my lip to quiet my cries as I pulled my arm free and rolled onto my side to try to work the other restraint free.

Which was difficult with a dislocated joint in my hand below my thumb that gave way to allow my hand free, but not impossible. I glanced at the closed door as I struggled to unbuckle the cuff and slide my right hand out. At least I had one fully working hand finally, and the second it was free, I ripped the IV out of my arm, staunching the flow of the medicine they were pumping into me to make my body contract and force my baby out before she was due.

Swinging my legs off the side of the bed, I slid down to the floor, noticing I was on a hospital bed and not the one from before at all, and I was also in a hospital gown instead of my regular clothes. Jesus fuck, I felt like a test subject at some research lab, just free to be poked, prodded and cut to pieces in the name of fun.

There were two rolling carts on the opposite side of the room covered with sterile sheets, but I prayed for what I would find under them as I rushed over.

Tools.

I ripped the sheets from the carts, the scent of antiseptic sharp in the air, revealing an array of gleaming surgical tools—scissors, clamps, needles—a stark collection spread before me, each with a different purpose, but I searched for only one specific instrument.

That’s when I finally found my tool of choice. The scalpel.

A chill ran up my arm as I gripped the cold, hard steel, the metal smooth against my skin; I would survive, no matter what the cost.

No fucking questions asked.

There wasn’t a person in the building that I’d think twice about killing if it meant I made it out alive with my baby.

My stomach clenched, a visceral warning of the contraction to come. The pain intensified, a searing agony that made me bite my lip until it bled, stifling the scream building in my throat. I leaned on the cart for support as I covered my mouth to stay quiet. I was terrified and alone, and my entire body shook with each contraction.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. I was supposed to be at the hospital with Maddox. He was going to hold my hand and rub my back as Peyton chatted nervously as I labored my baby into the world.

I needed Maddox!

I sank to my knees as the contraction finally loosened its hold on my body and I wept, grieving what I thought the experience would look like while simultaneously trying to plan how to get out of it alive.

I had no idea what waited on the other side of the door, but I knew if I stayed put, I’d be in more trouble than I already was.

Grabbing a second scalpel off the other tray, I wrapped some gauze around the handles of both, securing them with what I figured was stitching string to make a makeshift shank.

Apparently binge-watching shows like Prison Break and Orange is The New Black benefited me after all, I couldn’t wait to rub it in Peyton’s face someday.

With a scalpel in each hand, though my left hand was mildly useless to wield it, I slowly and as silently as I could, turned the handle on the door, praying to any divine nature out there, to help me escape this death sentence.

When the door was open an inch, I peeked out into the hallway, finding it empty but unfamiliar. I had no idea where I was.

Even if I managed to escape the physical building itself, it was February, and I was in nothing but a hospital gown.

They even took my shoes.

It didn’t matter, though. My options were non-existent, I had to try.

As soon as I cleared the doorway, I closed it behind me, hoping maybe it’d buy me some time before they realized I was missing. A girl could hope.

I tiptoed down the hall, passing other closed doors and turning corners, trying to find an exit, but it seemed every opening had a closed door in it, and I had no fucking clue what was on the other side of any of them.

Panic burned up my spine as another contraction started, I had nowhere to hide, but I couldn’t have another contraction in the hallway if I had a prayer of staying hidden.

Sending another silent plea to any force of nature out there, I picked the closest door and turned the handle, pushing it open quickly and sliding inside as my knees buckled, taking me to the floor.

The room was dark, but there was a window on the far side of the room, and a glow from the city outside lit up the room enough for me to see that it was empty.

I crawled across the floor to the window through the contraction and pulled myself up to see through the dirty glass.

I was at least four stories high, and there wasn’t a fire escape to be found. Not that I would chance one in my condition. But that meant I had to go back to the hallway to find an exit.

I silently sobbed in defeat as I tried to muster up the energy and bravery to go back out there, knowing before long I was going to meet someone that expected me to still be tied up in my room.

Right before I turned around, something caught my eye from below the window on the ground.

People.

Two people, to be exact, standing in the empty parking lot below in a passionate embrace. My first thought was to shatter the glass and scream for them to call for help, but as I raised my fist, clutching the scalpel in my palm still, the two bodies took a step away from each other.

And I recognized them.

Damon.

And Mack. That traitorous supermodel.

Jesus, fuck.

I swallowed down some bile as she smiled up at him before he kissed her again and walked back into the building as she turned and walked around the building.

That was when I realized where we were.

The building was only two blocks from Maddox’s home. My home.

Jesus, fuck, indeed. She set me up, some way or another. That conniving bitch was part of the reason I was here.

And I was going to use the boiling rage racing through my veins to get the fuck out. As I turned from the window toward the door, the handle turned before I could open it, and the door swung in, forcing me to duck behind it as the doctor entered.

I didn’t think.

I didn’t process or plan.

I acted.

And I acted like a caged animal intent on enacting catastrophic damage to my prey.

Swinging my right arm in a downward arch, I buried the scalpel in the side of his neck as he walked into the dark room, kicking the door shut behind him and swinging my left hand around the front of his neck, slicing it and soaking both hands in warm blood as I shoved him to the floor.

He rolled over on his back, frantically clawing at his neck to staunch the bleeding as it spilled out through his fingers, staring up at me with wide eyes in shock.

“You deserved this.” I sneered down at him as he collapsed flat onto his back, bleeding out faster than he could process, even with his medical degree. Standing over him, I watched long enough to see him take his last breath before I turned and headed back out into the hall.

My blood was cold, and fury filled every cell in my muscles.

Fuck them all for thinking they could just take what wasn’t theirs.

They’d pay for it with their lives before I was done.

Every single last one of them.

But as I tiptoed down the dim hallway again, a hand covered my mouth as a strong body ripped me backward into one of the rooms. My arms flailed, slicing skin with the scalpels as the man who grabbed me slammed my back against the wall, grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head with his hand still over my mouth.

Piercing blue eyes, one covered with blood from a fresh slice to his forehead, stared back at me and I screamed against the palm. My stomach contracted, but I was so scared of the man holding me, I hardly even noticed.

“Well, well, well, Little Hacker.” The Duke whispered at me as he held me prisoner. “And to think, I came to rescue you, but it looks like you were well on your way to do it on your own.” I fought his hold as the pain of the contraction intensified and my knees gave out. “I think it’s time we called in reinforcements to get you out of here alive, don’t you? After all, my brother Dane loves when little brother Tamen calls and interrupts his life.”