Ruthless

Chapter 37

Kristin

April 26 Friday

A “get-together”tonight.

Kristin’s whole body trembled. Michaels had just gone upstairs to get ready for his little get-together, while she stood in the kitchen wearing the collar hooked to the chain.

And a girl. A few minutes ago, Michaels said she was going to have sex with another student while the men watched.

No way. She never cursed, but one thing came loud and clear to her mind.

No way.

She tried to control her breathing.

The plan that came to her mind was simple but vicious. Not only was she going to get out of this before he shot her up with that green liquid again, but she was going to make him pay for every last thing he’d done to her.

Got to hurry before he comes down.Kristin rushed to the cabinet under the sink. She had to stretch her arm and feel around, but she finally found it. The punch can opener.

In the fluorescent kitchen lighting the sharp, triangular point glinted. She grabbed a dish towel from a drawer and put it on the counter over the punch opener. She crouched below the sink again and reached back for the oven cleaner Michaels had left beneath the sink. Idiot, but lucky for her.

Kristin glanced around the kitchen. Where could she put it where he wouldn’t see it when he came into the kitchen?

The fridge. She opened the huge stainless-steel fridge and shoved plastic containers—no glass, of course—of mustard, ketchup, and other condiments aside to make room for the spray can, putting it closest to the door opening.

Just as she got it settled, she grabbed the single frying pan from beneath the stove, put it on one of the electric burners, and turned the heat on “High.” Then she opened the fridge door again, right next to the stove.

“Ready, slut?”

Kristin jumped at the sound of Michaels’s voice. Her heart beat like it was going to come up her throat as she held the fridge door open and cool air chilled her naked body.

Michaels was smiling. Grinning.

Sick bastard.

In one hand he held a syringe full of the green liquid. “Never thought I’d get to get in on some girl-on-girl action. Tonight will be a treat for me and my guests.” He stopped just outside the reach of her chain. “You’re going to get a taste of pussy while you’re being screwed.”

Kristin’s stomach heaved. No. Can’t throw up. She gripped the can of oven cleaner and put her finger on the spray button.

Michaels looked at the open fridge. “Close the door before all of the canapés get warm.”

Stall him. Make him come closer.

“Please don’t make me do that.” She tried to keep her hand steady on the oven cleaner. “Please don’t make me be with another girl—or those other men. I promise I’ll do anything for you.”

Michaels’s scowl twisted his heavy features. “I said shut the goddamned door.”

Her hand shook so badly she didn’t know if she’d be able to hold it steady enough.

She would. This was going to end.

“Please,” she said, putting all the begging she could into her voice.

“I don’t want to mark you before tonight,” he said as he strode toward her, and raised the hand that wasn’t holding the syringe when he was a few inches away. “But if you refuse to listen to me, so help me I’m going to slap the—”

Kristin jerked the can of oven cleaner out of the fridge and squeezed the button, aiming for his face.

White foam shot from the canister, directly into those eyes she hated so much.

Michaels screamed and dropped the syringe.

The doorbell chimed.

Kristin didn’t stop spraying, and his face was nearly covered with the foam. Fumes from the spray attacked her as she said, “You lousy, slimy, scum—”

“Bitch!” He lunged for her.

Kristin tried to back up, but her foot slipped in the foam that had plopped onto the tile.

Michaels grabbed her throat, knocking her against the counter.

The can slipped from her hand and rattled as it rolled over the tile floor.

“You are mine to kill.” The foam blinded him, but he had found her throat when he lunged for her. “I paid for you!”

His fingers were above her leather collar, and she gasped when he squeezed, his fingers so tight he was digging them into her throat.

Kristin grabbed his wrists with her hands, but his grip was too tight.

Her vision started to blur. She couldn’t breathe. Her mind started to shut down as he squeezed harder.

She wasn’t sure the chimes she heard in the distance were in her mind or real.

The opener.

She released one of his wrists and started slapping the counter with her palm, even as she felt the world fading.

The opener.

Got to…got to…

Even as her sight dimmed, her fingers found the cloth covering the punch opener.

Down. He was going down.

She yanked the cloth aside and grasped the opener.

Through her blurry vision, and even as weak as she was, she found the strength to do what she’d planned.

Kristin rammed the triangular point of the punch opener into one of his eyeballs and yanked as hard as she could.

She ripped his eyeball from its socket.

Michaels screamed and released her as his hands went to his eye, where blood poured from the socket.

He screamed as he held one hand to his empty socket and went for her with his other hand. “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you! Fucking bitch, I’ll kill you!”

Breath rasped through her sore throat to her lungs, giving her just enough strength to switch hands with the opener.

She jabbed the opener into his other eyeball and ripped it out.

“You’ll never look at another woman’s body again,” she shouted as he held his hands to his empty eye sockets and thrashed around. “Never!” she shouted.

“Fucking bitch!” He moved like he had no control over his body and yelled between coherent words. “Dear God. Oh, God.” He reached for her, his hands waving in nothing but air as he tried to reach for her. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! You can’t get away and I’ll kill you!”

Kristin was having a hard time focusing after nearly being strangled to death, and from all the oven cleaner fumes. But she had the presence of mind to grab the now red-hot empty frying pan, and with a two-handed grip slammed it into his face.

He screamed as the pan burned his flesh and knocked it out of her hand. “You bitch! I’ll kill you!” he kept shouting over and over as he floundered and went for her again.

Her strength was nearly gone, but she managed to bring her knee to her breast, plant her foot on his chest, and shove with everything she had.

Michaels fell back and slid across the bloody, foamy floor.

“Kristin!”

Nick, was that Nick?

She slowly slid down the cabinets, her legs starting to give out as well as her sight.

But she had just enough left to see her brother’s face, the steel-hard look in his gaze as he pointed a gun at Michaels’s groin.

In her haze Kristin almost tipped sideways as she watched, fascinated. She heard a shot, and Michaels screamed even louder and seemed to froth at the mouth.

Then Nick coolly raised the gun and shot the hysterical man between his already sightless eyes.

“I knew you’d find me.” Kristin smiled at Nick before everything went dark.