46. Chelsea
46
Chelsea
“You stupid worthless girl! Why are you even still here?”
The words rattle around in my brain but they don’t sink in. They don’t take root the same way they once did. Still, my mind feels like it’s covered in a haze that I can’t escape. I’m vaguely aware of the thin strip of plastic binding my wrists together behind my back. It’s not tight enough to cut off circulation, just enough to keep me from being able to have any real use of my hands.
The room we’re in looks exactly like what you’d imagine a small cabin in the woods would look like, complete with wooden paneling coating the walls and a cast iron wood-burning fireplace sitting in the corner. The couch Jason forced me onto is a dark beige, matching the one on the opposite side of the room that sits beneath a large window.
A few old family portraits hang along the walls, including a few of a young boy and his father in this very same cabin. They share the same blond hair and dark eyes as the man who dragged me here and suddenly, I know exactly where I am. Jason talked about this place so many times when we were dating, but timing just never worked for us to visit.
His heavy footsteps are a rhythmic thump, thump, thump, thump against the wood flooring as he paces back and forth, muttering words and curses to himself. His hands are balled into tight fists at his sides, a handgun gripped in one of them. He stops pacing a few times to throw his head back, raising his hands to tug at his mess of blond hair and inadvertently pointing the gun in my direction in the process. The move isn’t intentional, but it still makes my body jolt in response when it happens.
I have no idea what he’s planning to do or what could be going through his mind right now, but whatever it is, I don’t want to be part of it. I don’t know how long it’s been since I called Austin, but I do know that I need to do what I can to stay safe, which means getting Jason to calm down. I’ve seen enough mental breaks in my life to know that he’s not currently in his right mind.
“So fucking worthless. He ruined everything. She’s mine. Only mine. He can’t have her,” he spews, his footsteps quickening across the small living space.
“Jason…” I say softly. Approaching him in any capacity sort of feels like approaching a wounded animal. They seem aggressive and can lash out at any moment. With that in mind, I don’t dare move from my place on the couch.
“Shut up!” he screams, his voice louder than it’s ever been towards me. His cheeks are red, and his eyes are wet with tears, the dangerous combination of anger and frustration radiating off of him. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up!” he screams again, crossing the room and halting only when he towers over me, his legs bracketing mine. His chest heaves as he stares down at me. His brows pull together as his deep brown irises flick back and forth between mine .
My body involuntarily flinches away from him despite my desire to not let him see the fear he causes. He thrives off of it like a fucking sadist, and I refuse to let him scare me now.
His chin dips in a nod when I refuse to move or speak, and he steps back from me. His eyes drag over my body, and I have to fight back the grimace that threatens to spread across my face. Yet I’m helpless against the shivers that coast through my body.
Jason’s lips press into a tight thin line when he notices, a low growl emanating from him. He steps back and raises the gun in my direction, his finger resting alongside the barrel as he points the weapon at me. The pressure in my chest intensifies, my panting breaths coming in quicker, as I silently beg my body to remain calm.
Recalling Dr. Harper’s 333 rule for bringing myself out of a panic attack, or halting one in its steps, feels like an impossible task when I’m quite literally staring down the barrel of a gun. The things I can feel, hear, and see do absolutely nothing to calm the storm of nerves that is currently raging through me.
There’s a layer of sweat coating my palms and trickling down my back. My heart feels like it’s preparing to burst through my ribcage, and my stomach is threatening to empty its contents. I don’t let him see any of that. I swallow down every last warring emotion and keep my eyes locked on Jason’s.
“I bet you think you’re fucking boyfriend is on his way to save you, huh? Such a waste of hope, sweetheart. Nobody knows where you are. They’ll never find you. They’ll never find us. You’re finally mine just like you were always meant to be,” he grumbles .
His words spark a hint of doubt in my mind. Without my phone, I don’t have a way to reach Austin, but I have to believe that he’ll be able to find me. I have to trust him, just like he asked. Finding people, with Zack's help, is part of what he does every day. If anyone can track down someone that seems otherwise untraceable, it’s him.
I don’t dare respond. Not when there’s a lethal weapon pointed directly at me and the person wielding it seems intent on making sure that I do whatever he wants.
“Now you want to be quiet?” he scoffs. “Of all the times I couldn’t get you to shut up. Turns out all I had to do was make good on my threats, hm?”
My head hangs to my chest as tears prick behind my eyes. All of the insecurities that I’ve carried with me over the years are threatening to make a reappearance as his words sink in. Not only the words he just spoke, but every mean and hurtful snide remark that he’s ever thrown my way. It’s Jason’s voice that I hear in my head telling me that I need to be quiet, that I need to lose weight. It’s his voice that I hear telling me that I’m stupid and worthless and that nobody would care if I wasn’t here anymore.
But as the words settle in my mind, another man’s voice comes through louder. A voice that is kind and patient and understanding. A voice that sends shivers down my spine in the most delicious way possible. A voice that belongs to a man who has done nothing but show me how much he loves and adores me since the moment that he walked back into my life.
It rings louder and more true than any other .
Austin Anders loves me exactly as I am. Imperfections and traumas be damned. He’s never asked me to change. Not when we were younger and not now. For all the men who have told me that I’m worthless , Austin tells me that I’m worth everything. It’s his words that I will forever be clinging to when I find myself becoming immersed in darkness.