Chapter 54
CHAPTER
FIFTY-FOUR
JULIETTE
Victor slams his hand down on the side of my head. My back aches from the hard floor beneath it. As much as I hate the fact that this asshole has violated me again, I can’t deny that soft carpeting or a bed would be nice around about now.
But as he does whatever it is he does, something I can’t allow myself to even think about, my gaze shifts to the side, and I look at the gun.
All I need is that weapon.
I ignore the way my body hurts, ignore the words he keeps saying. Disgusting, vile words. I don’t care. I’ve heard them all before, and they don’t affect me. Slipping my tongue out, I wet my dry lips and wait for my moment, for my opportunity.
When he releases the gun, his fingers curling around my neck, I know this is my only shot. His fingers tighten around my throat, cutting off my oxygen. Everything becomes a little hazy as he begins to grip me harder. His fingers flex around my throat as he moves.
Careful not to make any sudden movements, I slowly slide my hand across the floor, straight out from my side, before I bend my elbow and reach for the gun. My fingers graze the bottom of the handle. It’s cool, and I wish I could grab hold of it tightly enough that I could use it on him immediately.
Pulling it down slightly, I try to get it close enough to grab, but the edges of my vision begin to turn black, and I know I’m going to be useless soon. I’ll be passed out, and he’ll do whatever he wants to me—I’m afraid he might kill me this time.
“Choke for me,” Victor hisses. “I want to be inside you when you die, you fucking cunt. I want him to know I took everything.”
“Why?” I rasp.
He throws back his head in laughter, slightly releasing his grasp, just enough for me to get a hold of the gun without him realizing it. I slide it down to my side, my fingers fumbling for a grip on it as my vision grows darker and darker.
I can’t breathe.
It’s happening. I’m going to pass out.
My arm feels like it’s moving through Jell-O as I lift it up and shift it between us. My hand isn’t trembling. It’s steadier than it’s ever been, not because I’m suddenly brave, but because I’m at the do-or-die point of desperation.
I squeeze the trigger just as my last bits of vision begin to vanish. And then his hand is loose, but his body is heavy on top of me. I scramble, pushing him off with everything I have—with almost herculean strength.
He rolls over onto his back, and I move away from him, also feeling as if I’m moving through gelatin as I attempt to catch my breath. I can’t take in a deep breath, and I can’t return to my normal breathing, so I just take in short pants in hopes that my body will somehow regulate.
“You bitch,” he growls.
He’s holding his stomach. But he’s still alive. Even though my ears are ringing, I can hear his voice loud and clear. My body hurts everywhere. It’s so bad that standing isn’t an option. Sliding toward him, I keep my hand curled around the gun, holding it out.
Victor tries to stand, but I can’t let him anywhere near me. He will kill me if he gets close to me. “Fuck you,” I hiss, my voice coming out raspy and ragged even to my own ears as he starts to crawl toward me.
I squeeze the trigger as many times as I can, until it’s just empty clicking. I don’t move the gun, though. I keep my arm straight as I continue to point it directly at Victor’s lifeless body. There’s blood everywhere, and the puddle around him grows larger and larger by the second.
I can't look away from his body, wondering if he’s going to suddenly suck in a breath, open his eyes, and come after me. I don’t even blink. I stay with my arm straight, my eyes focused on him.
I wait.
I don’t know what to do, what to think. I just stay where I am, every muscle frozen in place.
I wait.
I don’t know what I’m waiting for, but I’m not ready to move. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to move again.