24. Luella
Chapter 24
Luella
I want to rip his fucking eyes out. I’m seething, livid after what Colton just put me through. The audacity of that man, thinking he can manipulate and control me like some sort of puppet. He stands there, smirking, as if he’s won some sort of twisted game.
“You can’t keep me here,” I snarl, my voice trembling with barely contained rage. “I’m not your fucking toy, Colton.”
His eyes, those cold, steely gray eyes, narrow slightly, but the smirk doesn’t fade. “Oh, but you are here, aren’t you? In my bunker, under my control.”
I clench my fists, feeling my nails dig into my palms. “You think you have power over me? Newsflash, you don’t. I won’t play your games.”
Colton chuckles, a sound that grates on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “We’ll see about that, little bird.” He turns and walks away, leaving me alone in the dimly lit bunker. The heavy door slams shut behind him, echoing ominously in the confined space.
Where the fuck has he gone? I shouldn’t care, but I fucking hate that he’s locked me in here, like I’m his prisoner. Probably gone to see his daddy, the sick fuck. But I know he hasn’t. Colton took me away from his father, when he could’ve left me to him.
I’d have survived, of course, but he doesn’t know that. He thought he was protecting me.
Then he raped me.
I will have his balls for that. I’ll choke him on his own fucking dick for making me a victim.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the chaos raging inside me. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break down. Instead, I decide to explore my prison, determined to find something, anything , that might help me escape or at least understand Colton’s twisted mind better.
Every corner of this place reminds me of him—his control, his fucking ego. I want to tear it all apart. Break everything. But I need to think. I need a way out. There’s no point in losing my head now, no matter how much I want to scream until I lose my voice.
The bunker is surprisingly well-equipped, a hidden sanctuary tucked away from the chaos above. The air is cool and slightly damp, carrying a faint scent of earth and concrete. The walls are lined with shelves stocked with canned goods and other supplies, lit by the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. There’s a small kitchenette in the corner, complete with a humming mini-fridge and a hotplate, the stainless-steel sink gleaming despite the dim light.
I can’t imagine Colton is much of a cook, though.
A doorway leads to a cramped bathroom, and the living area is refreshing compared to the rest of the bunker, invitingly warm and lived in. Large cartons of water remind me that Colton could keep me here for a long time, but I push that thought away. I must remain calm and not get myself worked up over shit like that.
A worn-out couch sits in the center, its faded upholstery giving away its use. A thick, soft blanket is draped over the back, beckoning me to curl up and retreat from the world.
I could. I could just curl up and go to sleep, forget any of this is happening. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose before continuing to look around.
I won’t give up. My sister will be avenged. God, I sound like a superhero character.
A television, surprisingly modern compared to the rest of the furnishings, is tucked into the corner. Beside it, a stack of DVDs leans haphazardly, their spines labeled in neat, handwritten French. I pick up one, running my fingers over the faded cover, the plastic smooth and cool to the touch. The titles bring back memories of high school French classes, the language always striking me as beautiful and romantic.
I slip the disc into the player and sink onto the couch, the cushions enveloping me. The TV flickers to life, casting a soft glow that dances across the walls, providing a much-needed distraction from my current reality. The sounds of Parisian streets fill the room, transporting me far away from the cold, damp bunker and the shit that awaits me above ground. For a moment, I can forget the danger and the deceit, losing myself in the familiar rhythm of a language that once captivated me.
Hours pass, and I drift off to sleep, the voices from the television lulling me into a sense of security.
When I wake up, I’m disoriented. The movie is still playing, but the bunker is darker, the only light coming from the flickering screen. I realize my head is resting on something warm and firm. I blink, my eyes adjusting to the light, and see Colton staring at the TV, his expression unreadable.
I jerk away from him, recoiling in disgust. “Don’t touch me,” I snap, my voice hoarse from sleep. My heart thuds as I move to the other side of the sofa, glaring at him.
Colton sighs, running a hand through his dark curls. “Relax, I wasn’t doing anything. You fell asleep, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
I glare at him, wrapping my arms around myself protectively. “Relax? Are you fucking serious? You fucking raped me, Colton! I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
He leans back, putting some space between us. “Fair enough. Are you hungry?”
Is he for real? He just completely ignored what I said, the fucking psycho.
I give him the silent treatment, refusing to engage in pleasantries. He waits for a moment, then sighs again. “Look, if you aren’t going to speak to me, maybe we should go back to the bedroom.”
The thought of being in a bedroom with him sends a shiver of unease down my spine, but I can’t stay in this bunker forever. “I’ll go by myself,” I say, my voice clipped. “And I swear, if you try anything ?—"
“I won’t,” he interjects, his voice surprisingly soft. “I promise.”
“That means fuck all.” I stand up, brushing past him, my anger simmering just below the surface. I’m pissed off that I’m a victim in this situation, that I’m being held captive when I have things to do. Important things. Like killing his father.
I whirl around, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “You know what? I have shit to do, Colton. And you’re getting in my way.”
He doesn’t look surprised. Instead, he studies me, his gaze intense. “I know who you are, Luella,” he states quietly. “I’ve done my research. And I think it’s time we talk about your little plan.”
A chill runs down my spine, but I refuse to let him see my fear. I lift my chin, meeting his gaze head-on. “Good,” I respond, my voice steady. “Then you know I’m not someone to be fucked with.”
How does he know?
His lips curl into a cold smile, and I can see the darkness swirling in his eyes. “Oh, I know,” he confirms. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Game on, Colton. Game on.
“So you need to let me go,” I say, straightening my spine. “Now.”
Colton lifts a brow, craning his neck to look at me over the sofa. He looks amused, the weirdo. “Why would I do that?”
Irritation spikes, and I step closer, hugging my arms to my chest. “Because you know I need to kill your father, and I can’t do it from here.” Sarcasm coats every word, but I don’t miss the flash of surprise in his eyes.
Good.
“You think you can kill my father?” He sounds like he’s about to explode into laughter, and my rage almost takes over.
Does he think his father is untouchable? That he can treat human beings like fucking pieces of meat and then end their lives in the most horrific ways and get away with it? I’m surprised no one has tried before now, to be honest.
The fucking Blackwood’s.
“And you.” I grin at him, making sure to bare my teeth. “You think you can rape me, keep me imprisoned in here, and you won’t have to pay? You fucking will, mark my words.”
Colton laughs, throwing his head back so I can see the back of his throat. A chill runs through me. Why isn’t he taking me seriously? Maybe because I haven’t hurt him yet. He doesn’t know what I’m capable of.
“What’s so funny?” I ask through gritted teeth.
Colton stops laughing, a chuckle playing on his lips as he says, “You’re right, I raped you. You couldn’t stop me, and you tried. What makes you think you can kill me?”
Before I can answer, he holds up his hand.
“No, wait, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you try?”
Our eyes meet in a silent war, and anticipation floods my fraught bones. He’s serious. I lick my lips as he rises to his feet, his huge fucking body towering over mine as he grins at me.
“You really are fucking perfect for me, Luella.”
My skin crawls when he says my name, my real name, my identity. The one thing I thought I’d hidden well. Well, fuck him. I jut my chin and glare at him, hating how my core twists with some kind of sick desire.
“I hate you.”
“Good.” He doesn’t miss a beat. He steps closer, and I narrow my eyes.
“Don’t come any closer.”
Colton’s eyes widen and his grin spreads across his cheeks, showing his perfect teeth. I’d like to knock them out. “Or?”
“Or I’ll fucking hurt you.”
Another laugh, and this time I don’t hesitate. I lift my knee hard into his balls as he groans, bending in half immediately. I kick him in the head as hard as I can before lunging for the large cartons of water by the wall. My heart thumps so hard I can barely hear, my breath caught in my throat as Colton growls.
“You fucking slut!”
I can’t just run—he’ll catch me.
I need to slow him down, make him think I’m weaker than I am. Wait for him to drop his guard, and then…
I can’t think!
But then, instinct takes over, and I run toward the water cartons. I operate on core motor skills, reaching down to lift one into my arms, pleased for all the weight training that led me to this moment. I turn back, spying Colton on his knees, holding the side of his head. He looks up just as I raise the carton over my head, a wild grin on his lips.
“You wouldn’t dare...” he rasps as he puts his arms up, ready to catch the carton.
But I knew he’d do that, so I hold the carton to my chest, running at him with a scream that tears from my throat. Colton’s eyes widen as he realizes what I’m planning, but he’s too late.
The carton slams into his chest, sending him flying across the room, the wind knocked out of him.
Colton’s body crumples to the floor, a sharp gasp escaping his lips. For a moment, he’s motionless—stunned. But then his eyes snap to mine, blazing with fury, and I know my moment of advantage is gone.
Run, Luella, run!
I twist on my heel, falling to the floor before pushing myself up by my palms. I run to the front door, praying it’s easy to unlock from the inside. My chest burns as I pant, knowing I don’t have long before Colton comes after me. The door looms ahead of me. I crash into it, my hands shaking as I fumble for the lock. It’s a deadbolt, simple and old-fashioned, but my trembling fingers struggle to turn it. I can hear Colton behind me, his ragged breaths echoing in the bunker. The taste of fear floods my mouth, but I can’t give in. Not now.
The lock clicks, and I wrench the door wide open, the cool night air hitting my face like a slap.
Freedom .
I stumble out into the darkness, my eyes adjusting slowly. I’m on a cliff, but it doesn’t stop me. I can see his car parked nearby, but I don’t have the time to steal it. I have to run. He’ll be at a disadvantage because he’s heavy and injured; I’m not.
Pebbles slip under my feet, the sound of the sea crashing against the rocks not far behind. God, if he catches me...
I can’t stop. I can’t. The sound of Colton’s footsteps grows louder, closer, and my heart feels like it’s going to explode out of my chest. The air is thick with salt and the scent of the ocean, but all I can taste is fear. I swallow and keep running, the muscles in my legs burning as I force them to go faster than they ever have before, the cold wind making my eyes water and my cheeks sting.
Don’t stop.
The sound of Colton's footsteps behind me spurs me on. He’s gaining ground, his long strides and familiarity with the terrain giving him an advantage. I push harder, my heart pounding so hard it hurts. Everything blurs around me, and I can feel the desperation clawing at my throat.
Suddenly, a clearing opens, and I can see the road. My heart leaps in my chest as I push forward. If I can just get there, maybe I can lose him, maybe I can?—
But then his hand clamps down on my shoulder, and for a second, I feel like my heart stops.
No, no, no —I was so close!
I twist, fight, but his grip tightens, pulling me back into the nightmare. The taste of freedom evaporates, replaced by the choking bitterness of defeat.