Chapter 12
TWELVE
The coldness from the walls seeps into my bones, my hands going numb. It’s been like this for a while; they only turn the heating on in a couple of specific rooms in the manor. The rest are as cold as the middle of the night in January, freezing and unlivable.
I’m unsure why they handed me a blanket — albeit a rather thin one. It’s wrapped around me, providing a little bit of warmth. After the whole Zoe ordeal, she was taken out of the manor, and I haven’t seen her since. It’s been only a day, but no one’s come to see me.
When I woke up after falling straight into X, I was in this room.
It’s different from the one I was in previously, mainly because this one is on the third floor, and I can see the forest clearly.
The door’s locked, no one has come to check in on me, and there’s no food or water.
The window is slightly cracked, allowing the harsh wind and all the cold to get inside.
The thought of breaking it fully and jumping out of it crossed my mind more than once, but given the height and the lack of physical strength, I’d break a few bones, and that would be the best-case scenario.
With a deep sigh, I prop my chin on my knees, hugging the blanket around me tighter. My body trembles from the cold, and as I breathe out, I can see the white cloud of my breath form for a second.
It was the first time I’ve seen X since being brought here — or any of the other houses.
There’s likely a good reason why he hasn’t revealed himself thus far, and I’m not going to ask a lot of questions.
I just know one thing; I’m hella grateful he ended up making an appearance.
There’s no doubt in my mind that he told Arlo and that he’ll be coming to get me soon.
My hair’s a fucking mess. It’s matted, and I’m barely holding back from passing out. I’m not hungry anymore. I think that feeling passed a while ago, and now, I’m just numb to it all. After all, my body got used to receiving enough food to keep me alive.
The sound of keys jiggling gets my attention, and I quickly get to my feet. My heart is hammering against my ribcage, my eyes narrowing as the doorknob slowly turns. The moment lasts a few seconds at best, yet it feels like an eternity passes before the door is pushed open, a man stepping inside.
Relief floods through me when I recognize the man as X. He closes the door softly, making no sound. He approaches me, pulling me from the window by my elbow, shoving me into the corner of the room. As always, he’s silent, but his hand moves to the inside of his coat, and he pulls out a gun.
For a moment there, I’m not sure if he’s here to use it on me, but when he tucks it into the waistband of my pants, hiding it with the shirt, and then steps back, I realize that something’s going to happen.
“When?”
The question hangs in the air between us, charged with emotions I cannot quite place. His eyes bore into mine, lips thinned into a line. I know he doesn’t speak, so I’m not expecting a detailed answer, just the time.
He pulls out his phone, typing in the answer, taking his sweet time, then turns the screen toward me. My eyes skim over the words, brows narrowing in confusion. I glance between the phone and his face, unsure what to make of this. I’m reading the words, but they’re not making a whole lot of sense.
“So, soon?”
X nods stiffly, putting the phone back into his pocket. He gives me a look over, from head to toe, twice, before disappearing back through the door he came from. He makes sure to lock the door, and once again I’m left all alone.
The metal object weighs heavily on me, my fingers twitching, almost itching to touch it. It’s been a while, and although I don’t have the training Arlo has, I think he and Hudson ensured I’d be able to fire a solid shot and save myself if it ever came to that.
Time passes by slowly, and I’m getting restless.
I move across the room, the blanket tossed aside.
The adrenaline wakes up inside me, and the wait is gnawing at me.
Something churns inside my stomach, my heart dropping to my feet when I hear a couple of cars parking outside.
From the window, I can only see a little bit of the vehicles, but not the people who leave them, and I’m certain it’s not Arlo.
Knowing him, he’ll make a dramatic entrance.
Loud voices fill my ears, belonging to at least four people. They’re all shouting over each other, so I can’t figure out what they’re talking about. However, one single voice stands out, causing the blood in my veins to freeze.
By the time I can process my thoughts, the door is pushed open and he comes inside, looking more furious than I remember him.
That tall figure, with the same dark eyes that are filled with evil, stares at me, and my breath hitches in my throat. The fear I thought I’d be able to push aside when I finally came face-to-face with him resurfaces, paralyzing me in my spot. My throat goes dry, my body trembling.
Paul Simmons looks at me, disgust evident on his face. Yet, underneath it all, is fury that runs deeply inside of him, and it’s directed toward me. He stalks toward me, reaching me within a second, his face a mere inch away from mine.
I can’t think, I can’t speak, I can’t breathe.
The man who ruined my life is finally in front of me. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for years, fantasizing about all the ways I’ll execute my revenge. Many ideas involved having him tied up, then letting all the anger, all the pain out on him. But this is different.
It’s just a reminder that no matter how much I think I’ve grown, he’s still the one in power. He still holds me tightly in his clutches, and he’s still the biggest monster of my life. I’m like his marionette, and he’s been playing with me all along.
“You fucking cunt,” he hisses, hand coming to wrap in my hair. He pulls it back, a small yelp of pain coming from my lips. It causes him to tighten his grip, and I’m pretty sure he managed to rip a few strands of my hair. “Do you have any fucking idea what you have done?!”
His screams reach my ears, but I can’t force words out of my mouth. All I can do is stare at him, wide-eyed, hoping he won’t repeat all the abuse he’s put me through. He used to be the roughest and most violent when he was angry, but I have never seen him as furious as now.
“What—’’
My words are croaked out, only barely, and even I’m not sure if he’s heard me.
My hands are trembling by my side, and I can’t help but think how pathetic I look.
I haven’t grown at all. I’m still the little girl he’s hurt, abused, and ruined.
I’m still as scared as I used to be, and no amount of pretending can prove otherwise.
This is my life — being pathetically terrified of my abuser.
“Arlo De Santis has burned half of New York down to the fucking ground for you,’’ he hisses in my ear, yanking on my hair harshly.
“He fucking ruined everything — no, you ruined everything. I never should’ve sent you to prison.
I should’ve sold you to someone who would’ve made sure your death was as pathetic as you. ’’
My mind barely registers the second part of his rant, focusing on the first one.
Arlo burned down New York for me. He actually did something as dangerous and insane as that. Never in a million years would I have thought he’d go to such an extreme for me. It just goes to show that his obsession with me knows no bounds, and that thought comforts me.
It wraps around my heart like the softest blanket, and somehow, my body stops trembling. The fear’s there — it will forever lurk around, especially when it comes to Paul Simmons, but now I’m certain Arlo will come to get me.
“Now, I’ll have to do what I should’ve done a long time ago.” The thinly veiled threat doesn’t go unnoticed, and I don’t get the chance to at least try and ask him what he means.
Paul readjusts his hold on me and, in an instant, slams my head against the wall. A scream of pain bursts to the surface, the aching spreading all throughout my body. He does it again, until I feel blood dripping from the side of my head.
When I look up at him, all I can see is blazing anger. The same look he used to give me when he’d rip my clothes apart, force himself on me, time and time again. Not once did my tears stop him; in fact, they only made him ruin me more. He thrived on my pain, on the way he was ruining me mentally.
His hand connects to my cheek, the sound of it echoing in the room. My head turns to the side, the metallic taste falling onto my tongue. With a trembling hand, I touch my cheek, swallowing thickly. The strength he used to slap me guarantees a bruise will appear soon.
“Get to your fucking feet.’’
My body responds immediately, and I stand up, looking at him hesitantly. There’s a smirk on his lips, one that causes nausea to build inside me as he glances at my cheek, reveling in his little work of art.
“If I had the time, I’d remind you of our good old times, Blair.
” His hand comes to stroke the cheek, and I flinch.
His voice is softer now, but I know all too well just how fake it is and that the worst is yet to come.
It’s happening, all over again, and I’m still as helpless, as useless as I was.
“But right now, I need to get you out of this fucking place before Arlo finds it.”
Paul doesn’t wait for my response. Instead, he wraps his arm around my wrist and starts pulling me out of the room. His steps are quick, and only now do I see the tension in his shoulders. His body is rigid, and he’s under a lot of stress. That’s when it all clicks — the bastard is scared.
His hand is tightly wrapped around my wrist, and if he holds it any rougher, my bone will snap. He’s not being careful, either, and I have to try and force myself to keep up with his pace. I trip a few times, though it doesn’t deter him.
We reach the bottom floor, and that’s when I fucking remember the gun X gave me. There are too many of his men for me to use it safely, and instead, I keep the thought in the back of my head, ready to use it once we’re alone again.
The front door of the manor opens, and we step outside.
Snow covers the grass, the trees, and even the hoods of their cars. It’s falling relentlessly, promising a snowstorm. In any other situation, I might’ve thought this scene was beautiful, but he yanks me again, urging me toward one of his cars.
However, Paul freezes in his spot, and I collide with his back. The scent of his strong cologne hits my nose, and I gag before stepping back a little. He’s standing silently for what seems to be an eternity, and a frown tugs on my lips.
I peer over his shoulder, getting on my tiptoes to see what the fuck is happening, and what I see makes me falter.