Chapter 36 Winona Bishop #2
“Kim, you finally joined us,” says the man in a suit and Oxford shoes as he turns around to face us.
James.
“Winona, what a pleasant surprise.” His grin widens.
“You played the game very well, I must say. I get why my son adores you so much. He likes challenges, and you’re a challenging woman.
A strong one indeed. He lives to protect the ones he loves fiercely.
He is loyal, but loyalty can get you killed, right, Kim? ”
The woman he calls Kim presses the knife against my throat.
“Mom.” Reeve’s face falls. “Mom, no!” He roars like an animal, and chunks of spit fly to the floor as he pulls at the chains around his wrists. “Mom, put the knife down.” His nostrils flare, the rage bleeding off him in waves. “If you try to hurt my wife, I will come for you, too.”
Mom?
Fidgeting, she drags the tip of the knife across my neck; the sting is brief as a bead of blood trickles down. “Reeve, shut up,” she says through clenched teeth, sounding tense and on edge.
I flex my fingers at my side. My injured hand is partially numb, thoroughly bloodstained, and pounding. The pain is nearly blinding, but I focus on Reeve.
I understand that seeing his mom alive must be shocking. He loved her deeply and always blamed himself for her death. I wonder what else grandma lied about or kept from us. He had the right to know, even if it was for our own good.
He tried so hard to bury them in the past because he knew they would surface in the present, and now they stand right in front of him.
“What a reunion.” James’s manic laugh makes my nostrils flare.
“Leave her alone,” Reeve snaps, “she’s not part of it.”
“On the contrary, she is the game. You did everything for her, and if you lose her, game over.”
“You think I will work with you?”
“I know where her biological parents are.”
“Bullshit,” my voice slices through the room, resonant and sharp.
“Want to try me?” James tilts his jaw with a smug grin, his vacant eyes slowly flick to meet mine. “We can trade. Your parents for your husband.”
I will never do that.
Reeve’s throat bobs as he swallows thickly.
“If you worked for my grandma long enough, then you learned from a master manipulator. You know how to play with all the pawns, twist them, trick them, and trap them in a well-crafted game you created.”
Kim’s hand tightens around the knife. Her breathing is sharp in my ears.
“What are you getting at?”
“Whose idea was it to turn this prison into what it is?” I ask, raising my brow at him.
“Surprisingly, your grandma. I just took her idea to the next level and spent the last year searching for the right players. Visual effects always work best when you see them live.”
“I can tell that you did, but you’re wrong.”
“Where am I wrong?” he studies me.
I spent my entire life fighting my demons.
When I pushed them away, they came back stronger.
Deadlier. Or so I thought, but I was the one who changed.
I crossed the lines and emerged from my cage in every waking moment.
In my nightmare-painted reality, I always held the key to the prison within my mind.
That’s one of the many reasons I wanted Reeve to open that door for me.
His prison was the circus, mine was a palace.
He took the blame, risked his life, and refused to back down, all so I could spread my wings and fly.
I took a chance, fought for my life, and refused to believe he was gone, all so I could see him again.
I knew he was right in front of me all along, and being apart hurt. Sometimes I didn’t want to accept it. I thought it was all in my head. But that moment in the van, the night of the party, I felt him. Everything made sense again, even though I was a mess.
I’ve always had a peculiar mind, especially when I sketched. I wanted them to stop treating me like I was made of glass. No one can break something that’s already broken. And something inside me was broken until Reeve came and glued all the pieces back together.
I just got him back.
I’m not losing him again.
“My grandma collected all my drawings since I was a little girl,” I finally answer.
“All of these rooms are based on my sketches. It took me a moment to realize, but it made sense why there’s a playroom and a dinner, and why there are so many empty rooms—because that’s how I felt.
Romina Bishop didn’t build a prison; she brought my mind to life.
She gave my demons a home somewhere far away. The chaos came after.”
“That’s a nice speech, Winona. But I can always kill you. I’m just being nice.” James keeps blabbing and lighting his cigarette while Reeve gives me a slight nod of confirmation and signals Mitch to execute our next move together.
Reeve jumps to wrap his legs around James’s neck. The chains rattle angrily yet keep him balanced and upright. The cigarette hanging from his dad’s lips is shoved into his mouth. He chokes on it, spits it out, and groans from the burn it caused.
“Killing me won’t stop what’s coming, Reeve.” James grunts.
“I know, but it’ll give me peace.”
Distracted, Kim remains silent behind Mitch and me. I carefully pull out my pocket knife. She twitches uncontrollably as Reeve squeezes his thighs to suffocate James.
“Reeve, it’s your father!” Kim yells as James turns redder.
I stick the blade into her right thigh. Mitch spins around and yanks the gun from her hand. She shrieks as I grab her left wrist and twist it. Her knife thuds to the floor.
Reeve growls. A single gunshot echoes, followed by the crunching sound of bones breaking.
Kim grips my throat with both hands as I plunge the blade into her chest. A gasp escapes her. Everything stills around me when I look at the woman from earlier who begged me not to kill her.
Blood oozes around the knife as I yank it back.
That’s her knife.
The one she gave Reeve when he was a kid.
Her hard features soften, and she mouths, “Thank you,” as she falls to the floor.
I gasp, shoving the knife into my thigh bag. My heart twists as I turn around to see James on the floor, and Mitch unlocks Reeve’s cuffs.
I run to him, cupping his face, and he wraps his arms around me.
“I’m okay, Baby. I’m okay.”
“I love you so much,” I say, running my hands down his back and pausing when he winces. Mitch ties a piece of fabric around his bleeding calf.
“I love you, too, Winona. I’m sorry.”
A tear rolls down my cheek. “Me too.” I sniffle against his chest. The warmth of his body grounds me once again.
He places two fingers under my chin, gently nudging me to look up at him.
“I knew you’d come for me.” He brushes the hair sticking to my face and tucks it behind my ear. “I made it just in case I never saw you again. I didn’t want to leave you without answers like I had before.”
“I have so many new questions.”
His husky chuckle echoes deep in my heart as he pulls me by the throat into a feverish kiss. Gliding my tongue against his, he pulls away to bite my bottom lip.
“I don’t want to interrupt you, love birds, but we have to go,” Mitch pulls us away from each other. “You’ll have plenty of time for this later.”
“Not if the world ends,” Reeve comments with a smirk.
“Or we die here because we can’t find a way out,” I continue.
“Bury that negativity down,” Mitch flips his hands playfully and pauses, “away from my nuts, though. Your wife squeezed them so tight I started yodeling for a second.”
“You what?” Reeve questions, his face turning murderous in the blink of an eye, but I know he’s just pretending to be pissed. “You touched my wife?”
I can’t help but laugh at them.
“She grabbed me. I had no say in the matter whatsoever.”
My man has no limits when it comes to me. Somehow, he seems bigger, even more dangerous.
“It was dark, and rule number three: if you’re in danger, don’t hesitate,” I clarify before Mitch loses an eye or two. “He saved me twice.”
“Three times.” Mitch rolls his eyes at Reeve. “You’re welcome,” he shouts as he walks out the door.
Reeve pauses above his mom and stares at her for a moment. “I think she made a lot of mistakes and maybe she didn’t deserve to end up like this, but she wanted to die a long time ago, so I’m glad she got what she wanted.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He interlaces our fingers. “We need to get you medical aid,” he says in a serious tone, pointing at my hand.
“I know.”
We rush outside and run down the corridor to Braxton. “I found a way out,” he shouts, keeping the seventh gate open. A huge weight lifts off my shoulders with each step.
Reeve’s fingers slip from my hands as a gunshot reverberates.
“No!” I scream in panic, stopping in place.
My eyes lock on Braxton, aiming his rifle in our direction. I turn around to see Reeve standing. The man behind him drops dead. His hand comes up to yank an arrow out of his neck.
“I’m fine. It just stings,” he says as he zigzags his way toward me.
“Are you sure?” I search between his eyes.
“We’ll know more once it takes effect,” Braxton suggests, hurrying us through the gate.
We follow him into the kitchen a few feet away.
“I figured there must be a trick here.” He points to the tunnel that opens before us as the door of the fridge disengages.
It’s like the fridge in my tower.
“What do we have here...?” says a sinister voice. I see the man’s figure out of the corner of my eye.
I grab the kitchen knife from the counter beside me and throw it with a precise swing in his direction. It slices through the air, plunging into the space between his eyes.
Bullseye.
“I’m pissed, my hand is pounding like a drum, and I just want to get away from this place.”
“That’s my wife.” The corner of Reeve’s mouth hooks into a smirk. “Thanks, Baby.”
I move past him, eyeing every delicious inch.
“I love watching your six.”
His voice trails behind me as I walk through the short tunnel and come up face to face with two doors.
“I think he’s high,” Mitch says.
“I’m not high.”
“Okay, big guy, lean on me.” He places Reeve’s hands around his shoulder. “Where to, Brax?”
“Left door.”
I open the door for them, and they shuffle into a spacious generator room. The room’s width is greater, and the far left wall has a large propeller spinning around—the cool air clashes with my skin.
Braxton rushes to the supply lockers, searching for something.
“I know how to exit,” Reeve slurs, “We need something long.”
“Do we?” Mitch grins from ear to ear.
“Positive, Mitchel Russ.”
“Oh, my full government name. How lovely.”
“You look lovely as well.”
“I’m accepting this compliment and running into the sunset with you.”
“I’m married.” Reeve slaps him upside the face.
“I deserved that.” His face scrunches up. “So high and still so loyal. You win,” Mitch points at me.
“That’s my man,” I smirk.
“Winona, you’re here…”
“He’s high as a kite. That thing works fast.”
“She’s so beautiful, isn’t she?” he tells Mitch.
“I’m not going to answer this tricky question because if you were in your right mind, you would have choked me by now.”
“Wait, you hit on my wife.”
“I did no such thing.”
Braxton walks past us holding a flagpole. Watching the propeller spin, he waits for the right moment, observing closely. With a quick swing, it clatters between two blades. “Come on, Winona. You go first.”
I glance at Reeve, and he gives a reassuring nod as I swing one leg over the still-blade and push past it.