44. Thea
thea
Hours ago, I had to let go of my bladder.
Hours ago, something in my wrist finally snapped during my relentless battle to set myself free.
And hours ago, that little piece of resilient hope that I had in me withered away.
I sit with my body cold from being stuck in this drafty building, my right arm still hoisted over my head, my shoulder dead. My left arm lies on the bed from where I got it loose, but my wrist is useless to me now.
A storm was pushing winds through the mountains, and this house, while it may have once been something to be admired, had lost all its protection against the elements after years of not being taken care of.
I was crying. All that hope and thoughts of saving myself had gone out of my head, and my tears were nonstop.
I can’t care anymore .
Eric hasn’t been here in hours, and I have no idea where he must have gone but, I was grateful for that.
It was still dark, but I felt the sun getting ready to rise.
Lord, maybe I was losing my mind.
Felt the sun. I couldn’t hardly feel a thing with most of my body going limp.
I miss Logan.
I miss his bed, the one he started referring to as our bed before I went and ruined it all.
I miss Lue, who was probably sick with worry and blaming herself for everything even though none of this was her fault.
I miss my sisters. God, I miss them fiercely. I hope that the restaurant didn’t get too messed up from the fire so they could keep going.
I wonder if Tori knows, if Ophelia knows too.
I wish I had worked harder to get Tori to talk to me. Choosing space was the wrong move. I should have talked with her. About everything. Let her vent to me her frustrations and assure her that everything that happened was not on her, that it wasn’t her responsibility or her fault.
I just wanted to wrap my arms around my family one more time.
A shuffling of feet whips my head to the door, bringing me out of whatever daze I had gotten myself into, and I realize that the sun has started to rise now.
I must have dozed off.
The door swings open, and Eric strides in, his face pink from apparently riding his bike around the mountains in the cold.
“Well, I’m shocked. I thought you would have escaped by now.
” He stalks over, his hand reaching for my wrist, and I cry out.
“Oh, poor baby.” He kisses my wrist, and for a split second, I see the man he was before he showed me the ugly truth.
“You tried so hard.” His eyes find mine again, and I hold his stare, hoping to give myself a little bit of dignity before I die. “Too bad it did nothing to save you.”
He drops my wrist, and I cringe, watching as he unsheathes a knife from somewhere on his person and draws it up the side of my leg.
I whimper at the feel of the tip digging into my thigh.
“You know, I would have come back to you,” he starts, running that knife up further, crossing it over my ribs and breasts before landing at my throat.
The cold against my skin makes me freeze.
“You didn’t have to leave me, Thea. I could have come back, and we would have picked up where we left off.” His eyes held mine, and I was terrified—absolutely terrified—to look away from him. “We could have moved, found ourselves a new life without the club, without your meddling sisters.”
I furrow my brows in confusion.
“Oh, baby, I know your sisters told you to rat me out.” He digs the knife in deeper, and I’m really thankful it’s a dull one.
“You would never have betrayed me, but don’t worry, I’m going to put you out of your misery.
” Before I realize what’s happening, he leans forward, pressing a hard kiss to my lips.
I rear back as far as I can go, trying and failing to get away from him.
Finally, he relents and pulls back, sliding the knife back down my ribs again. “Don’t worry, baby. When I’m finished with you, I’ll take care of your sisters.”
Shock courses through me. “No!”
Eric chuckles. “Ah, finally she speaks. Yes, baby. I have to.”
“No, please. P-please leave them alone.” My stuttering gets me nowhere, though, and he takes the knife he holds, slicing through my jeans and cutting the top of my thigh. I scream at the pain, unable to hold on to the stoic version of myself I tried to for so long.
Eric seemed disturbingly pleased by this and cuts again and again until all I can hear are my own screams.
I start to cry, holding my head to the side so I don’t have to see another cut.
Not liking the sound of my screams, Eric strikes me in the face and blinding pain echoes through my head, pain I’ve never felt—pain I can’t describe—as my mouth gapes open as a shocked breath leaves me.
Distantly, I hear muffled first steps, and Eric looks at the door. “Not now, Bones.”
But the door is flung open, and large male bodies enter the room. Relief sweeps through me, and I feel myself fading from the pain my body is going through, but I force myself to see his face one more time.
The pissed-off look looks good on him.
Logan closes in on Eric just as I pass out.