17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
Sunny
My body screams at me to take a breath, to find a way to fill my lungs. My head is swimming, and my heart is pounding painfully in my chest.
This can’t be happening. Not again. Not this. Anything but this.
The weight of Garrett's body pins me down, crushing me into the carpet. He stinks of sweat and cigarettes, and his breath is hot and rancid against my skin. The panic sinks its claws deep into my chest and I remember. My body remembers. I've been here before. I've survived this before. I plead with myself to believe it. To hold on to that one thought even as his hand over my mouth grinds my lips into my teeth. I taste blood and every shallow breath I manage to suck in between his fingers feels like it's scraping my lungs raw.
“That’s my girl.” His voice slithers into my ear as I thrash beneath him, desperate to get him off me. “Keep fighting. Show me how tough you are. You know how I like it, baby.”
I am fighting. With everything I have, I fight. My hands rake at his arms, my legs piston out trying to get leverage, but it’s useless. Nothing works. He’s too strong, too heavy. I can’t move. I can’t get him off. My chest burns from the strain, my arms shake from the effort, but he doesn't budge.
I'm trapped.
Garrett shifts, jamming his knee into my stomach as he moves to straddle me. It drives the little bit of air I have out of my lungs, and my body jerks against him. I gasp into his palm. He grins. The light from the lamp he knocked over casts deep shadows across his face turning him into a monster.
My monster.
My worst nightmare.
I can’t believe this is happening. Not again. Not with him .
"I told you I’d come back for you, Sunny." He murmurs, his voice low and sickeningly calm. It makes my skin crawl. "You're mine. I own you. Remember?"
I twist violently, trying to roll to the side, but he’s everywhere. His thighs squeeze me, holding me tight, his free hand pins my wrists above my head. His weight presses the panic deeper into my chest, dumping terror into my veins.
I scream, but it's a pathetic, weak, muffled sound. I gnash my teeth and bite, hard enough to taste his skin. Hard enough to draw blood. He loosens his grip on my face only for a second. I fill my lungs with sweet, cool air. It wasn't enough though. His hand clamps down even harder over my mouth.
More flashes of memory rip through my mind—sharp fragments that cut into me. Garrett's hands, his mouth, his weight. I hear the echo of my screams, feel the bruises bloom on my skin under the burn of his hands, feel myself break as I'm shattered from the inside out. It all comes rushing back to me. Every sickening moment I've lived through with him before bleeds into the now. The line is getting fuzzy. Confusing.
I've lived through this before. All of it. But this time? This time, I’m not sure I will. I don't know if I can do it again.
I don't know if I want to.
Garrett presses his forehead against mine, grinning. "No one’s coming to save you Sunny. I made sure that psycho little boyfriend of yours will be busy for a while. You're on your own kiddo."
My stomach churns as his words sink in. Levi. Where is he? What did Garrett do?
My mind reels, grasping for answers. Is that why he didn't answer when I called? My breath comes in short, shallow gasps as his words find their home.
He's right. Deep down, I knew he'd be back. I wanted so desperately to believe things could be different—that I could have someone like Levi in my life, that I could feel safe, and be normal—I let it blind me. I knew it couldn't possibly last. Not for someone like me.
Whatever Garrett did to Levi, it's my fault. I knew better, but I was selfish. I overstepped. All of this— this— is my fault. I knew there'd be a price to pay, eventually. Tears fill my eyes, but I blink them back. I won’t cry. No matter what he does to me, or what happens tonight, he won't get what he really wants. I'll never give him the satisfaction of watching me crumble.
Garrett's hand moves down, pawing at the front of the dress Levi bought for me, the dress I'd so carefully put on and felt so beautiful wearing. There's a sharp tear of fabric as he rips it away. The soft expensive fabric never stood a chance. The dress is ruined, the night is ruined— I'm ruined.
I choke on my next labored breath, and squeeze my eyes closed. My body shakes as his fingers slide down my exposed skin. I can’t stop him. I can’t—
"You know the rules," Garrett growls, "open your eyes and look at me."
I turn my head to the side, refusing, squeezing my eyes shut as tight as I can. Please, let this be over soon. Please .
"Don't fuck with me Sunny. I said. Look. At. Me." His voice is hard, angry as he spits the words at me.
I start to turn my head, but as I do I catch a glint of something shiny. Something resting just under the corner of my bed. I blink my eyes, trying to bring what I'm seeing into clearer focus. It's scissors. The handle of a pair of scissors. They must’ve fallen when I cut the tags off my dress. If I can just.. .
My heart races, adrenaline flooding my veins. I stop struggling. My body goes limp. And I hold my breath. I have one shot at this. Only one. He needs to believe I passed out. Give me just a few more inches of reach.
Garrett adjusts his position, settling back on to my hips as I go still. I close my eyes forcing myself to relax. He lets go of my wrists, and lifts himself up on one arm. I can feel him staring down at me.
"Sunny." His voice is irritated. "You're only making things worse for yourself."
He shifts again, and I feel him push himself up further. "Fine. Have it your way."
I'm not ready for the slap when it comes. It's fast and hard and lights the side of my face on fire. I scream from shock as much as pain. The second one is worse. It lands harder, making my head thrum and ache. There's a loud crack with the third one—the sound of metal hitting bone as his ring smashes into my cheek. This time there's blood. I don't how much, but I can see it on his fingers, feel the warm trickle down my cheek. I can't do anything but groan deep in my throat.
Garrett moves his fingertips over my wounded cheek. His touch is gentle, soft. He moves his thumb in tiny circles across the tender, burning skin. Leaning over me he presses his lip to my skin and laps at the sticky wetness.
"Why do you always make it so hard? So difficult? Huh? I don't want to hurt you." He murmurs the words over and over against my cheek, against my lips, against my neck. His hips grind into me. "Why do you make me hurt you?"
I slide my hand down, stretching it out, slowly reaching for the metal I can see out of the corner of my eye. My fingers brush the handle. Almost there. Almost—
Garrett shifts again and before I can grab the scissors another slap comes out of nowhere. My head snaps to the side and I can feel the delicate skin of my lower lip split.
“Look at me!” Garrett growls. His voice is a mix of rage and satisfaction. He grips my throat, squeezing, cutting off my air. “I think someone needs to be reminded how this goes.”
I’m gasping, my lungs are burning, and my body's thrashing under him. The scissors... the scissors ...
They're my only chance. I stretch my arm as far as I can, wiggling my fingers, desperate to get a hold. Finally, my fingers hook one of the loops and I pull it towards me. I slide my fingers into the handles, tightening my grip, securing my hold.
I don’t think. I can’t think. I just do it .
I swing my arm up, slamming the blades into Garrett's side with everything I have. He jerks back, shouting in pain, his eyes going wide with disbelief. Blood spills from the wound, seeping between his fingers as he stares down at it, his face twisting in shock. For a second, hope flares in my chest.
But it’s not enough. I can see it in his eyes. It wasn't nearly enough.
“Fucking bitch!” he roars as he rips the scissors from his side. His hand curls into a fist, and before I can brace myself, he slams it into my face. My vision tunnels and I feel sick. The coppery taste of blood fills my mouth as pain explodes across my jaw. The room spins and I blink, trying to stay conscious, but everything is tilting away from me.
Garrett’s hands shake as he looks down at the blood, like he's trying to convince himself it’s real. That what just happened, happened. His face twists into something impossibly more terrifying. Something darker, more vicious than I've seen from him before. Slowly, he lifts the scissors, snipping at the air in front of my face. His smile is wide, and his voice is eerily calm.
“So, you wanna play big girl games, huh? Think you’re ready, Princess ?”
I make a grab for them, desperate for one more chance, but he's too fast. His hand snakes out, grabs my wrist and twists. Lightning bolts of searing white-hot pain shoot up my arm, and I scream—the sound ripped from my throat as I feel my bones snap beneath his fingers.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Garrett sneers, his voice low and mocking. “My bad. Did you want these?” He closes the scissors and offers them to me. "Here. You can have 'em. Take 'em. They're yours. Let's see what ya' got.”
There's a dull ache coming from deep in my skull and my thoughts keep getting lost, drifting away from me and not making sense. I raise my hand, the one that still works, and get ready to take my shot. Garrett's words stop me cold.
"Are you sure you wanna do that? You know, that one'll snap just as easy as the other one did. Then what will you do."
I don't respond. I can't. My mouth is swollen and my tongue is thick and dry. My teeth throb and ache. The pain is too much. My arm falls back to the floor. I stare up at Garrett, watching, helpless, as he opens the scissors again.
His eyes flick from the blades, to me, and back again several times. Like he's considering what his next move should be. Trying to decide my punishment.
Silently, he opens the scissors and presses one of the blades to my skin. In one long, slow stroke he drags it across my chest. There's a moment of sharp, stinging pain and then slick warmth running down my side. He pauses, sliding the cold metal between my breasts. With one smooth motion, he cuts away the delicate, lacy fabric I'd been so nervous to put on. So scared to have Levi see me in.
He glides the scissors back up, gently dragging the sharp point along my skin. Stopping at my collarbone, he closes the scissors before he digs the tips of both blades into my skin again forcing a low groan from my throat. The scissors tear and rip a path in my skin, down my chest and over my ribs. It's agony—my skin's on fire. Leaning back, he looks down at me and smiles.
"Beautiful." He whispers the word as the scissors clatter to the floor beside him—just out of my reach.
His breath comes in ragged gasps as he bends over me and grabs my wrist again. His fingers curl around my broken bones, squeezing with deliberate precision. "Oh sweetie. This is going to hurt. But I think you kinda asked for it, didn't you?" The words leave his mouth the same instant he slams my hand down on to the floor above my head. His fingers lace between mine, and he squeezes, forcing them to bend. When the small bones of my fingers give, cracking and slipping out of place, the pain is blinding, breathtaking. I open my mouth to scream but there's no sound. There's nothing.
"Stupid games, stupid prizes," he says, his voice flat, bored, as if this—as if I— were nothing more than a major inconvenience. He presses his palm down harder, grinding my crooked fingers and tortured wrist into the floor. It drives the pain deeper until that's all that there is for me, nothing else exists. "We don't want that hand of yours causing any more trouble, do we?"
His other hand finds my throat, and squeezes tight, cutting off my air. I kick out, desperate to get him off me, to get free, to take a breath, but I don't think he feels it. His eyes are wild and his face is flushed.
“Did you really think a little cut would stop me Sunny?” he snarls, his voice thick and angry. "C'mon you know me better than that.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe .
I try to grab at his hands, tear them away from my throat, but every move sends waves of pain through my entire body. It's excruciating. I think I'm going to be sick. The edges of my vision blur—dark fuzzy spots creep in, dancing at the edges. I try again to scream, but, again, no sound comes out—only a silent gasp.
My skin is caked with blood. His, mine—too much to tell whose it is. I can feel it, thick like honey dripping down my side and pooling next to me. But again, he's right. I should've known it wouldn't have been enough to stop him.
“You know what I think?" He tenderly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. "I think you forgot the most important rule of our little game. How many times have I told you. You're either mine or you're dead. And look at you now baby. You’re gonna be both."
Garrett's breath is hot and sour against my skin. "I hate to tell you this, but you really haven't left me much choice. You’re gonna die here tonight, Sunny,” he whispers, his voice low and venomous. “Right here. And everyone will know it was me but it won't matter because I'll be long gone. And you know what else? No one's gonna care. It's not going to make even one tiny bit of difference to anyone. Not to your bitch of a mother. Not to that little boyfriend of yours. Especially not him. He'll be balls deep in some cheerleader before your even in the ground. You are nothing . You'll be forgotten in less than a week. Just like your old man." He presses his forehead to mine again, waiting patiently for his words to sink in.
"Although, I gotta tell ya'... I didn't enjoy getting rid of him as much as I will you."
My chest heaves as his words slam into me.
It was him. He killed my father. He. Killed. My. Father.
My lungs are on fire, desperate for air. My body trembles. I can feel the need to fight slipping away from me, draining out with every second that goes by. I'm starting to feel so heavy. I can’t… I can’t fight anymore.
He’s going to kill me.
This is it. I'm going to die.
The thought is crystal clear and deafening, even as the world around me turns to static and starts to fade. I should be terrified, should be fighting harder, but I can't. There's a cold, hollow emptiness spreading through me, swallowing me whole. It's all slipping away from me.
A universe of bright pinpoint stars explodes across the dark sky of my closed eyelids and I'm floating. Suspended in an icy pool of darkness with seashell waves crashing in my ears. The black nothingness is comforting. Calming. It's a relief.
Deep down, I knew this was how it would end. How I would end. There was never any other option, not really. No matter how much I wanted there to be.
Please don't let Levi be the one to find me. Please don't let him see me like this.
Garrett's voice is ringing in my ears, but I can't make out the words. I can feel the weight of his hands on my body, feel him moving inside me. But it's all so far away now.
It doesn't matter. None of it matters anymore.
My heart pounds, the beats weak and uneven, pulling me deeper into the dark. There's a brief flicker of memories, not nearly enough—liquid sunlight on water, Levi's lips against mine, laughter in the distance, my father's voice— before my thoughts break apart and start to disappear. The pain is gone now, finally.
I struggle to open my eyes. Garrett is above me still, his face blurry and out of focus, but I can still make out his expression. It's hideous, inhuman. I regret that it's the last thing I'll ever see. I regret that he's the last thing I'll ever feel. Him. Not Levi. Him.
I'm so sorry Levi. So sorry.