Chapter 46
CHAPTER 46
RAVEN
T he basement is suffocating, every breath I take is heavy with fear and the acrid scent of Charles’s sweat mixed with whiskey. The dim light from the single bulb above flickers slightly, casting ominous shadows on the dank walls. I struggle against the ropes binding my wrists to the chair, the coarse fibers biting into my skin, but they hold firm. My heart pounds erratically in my chest as Charles stands in front of me, his shirt discarded, his chest heaving with labored breaths. He sways slightly, the bottle in his hand nearly slipping through his fingers.
“You think you’re too good for me, don’t you?” he says, his voice slurred but venomous. His eyes are bloodshot, wild, and filled with something dark and dangerous. He takes another swig from the bottle before slamming it onto the small table nearby, the sharp clink making me flinch.
Suddenly, I realize, there is no ‘good news’, no millions arriving in his account. He has reached the end of his tether. In fact, it is he who thinks I’m too good for him, otherwise he wouldn’t have to drink three-quarters of a bottle of whiskey before he tries to rape me.
“Why?” he growls, stepping closer. “Why was I never enough for you?”
I shake my head, desperate to plead with him, to make him understand, but the gag in my mouth stifles my cries. Tears stream down my face, and my chest tightens with the weight of my terror. Charles crouches in front of me, his face mere inches from mine, his breath reeking of alcohol and despair.
“I’ve loved you since high school, Raven,” he says, his tone softening in a way that’s somehow more chilling. “I’ve done everything for you. But no matter what I did, all you ever saw was Earl.”
He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair from my face, the gesture almost tender, and I do my best not to recoil. His hand lingers on my cheek, his touch burning like acid. “I could’ve given you everything,” he whispers, his voice breaking slightly. “But you didn’t even give me a chance. You still won’t.”
He stands abruptly, his sudden movement making me flinch again. He starts pacing, running a hand through his hair as he mutters to himself. Then, as if struck by a thought, he spins around and glares at me.
“You’re going to love me,” he declares, his voice rising with unhinged conviction. “Even if I have to make you.”
Charles has become unhinged. Losing his money, his ancestral home and me has driven him insane. There is no talking logic with him. I have to find a way to convince him that I’m secretly in love with him. Secretly, I struggle harder against the ropes. He steps forward, leaning down so his face is level with mine. “You’re mine now,” he says, his tone dropping into something low and menacing. “We’re going to leave this place, just you and me. Far away from everyone.”
I shake my head violently, muffled protests spilling from behind the gag. His expression darkens, and he grabs my chin roughly, forcing me to look at him. Then he pulls down the gag.
“Don’t fight me, Raven,” he snarls. “You don’t have a choice. You’re mine.”
Gathering every ounce of courage I have left, I look him dead in the eye and say, “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. I was just playing hard to get because I didn’t know how else to get you.”
It is as if I unknowingly flicked a kill switch inside him. Without warning his expression twists into something monstrous. His hand snaps across my face, the sharp crack of his slap echoing in the room. Pain explodes across my cheek, and I gasp, my vision swimming.
“Stop lying. You think I’m stupid. No, you ungrateful trailer park trash, I’m not stupid,” he hisses, his voice trembling with rage. “You think you can humiliate me? After everything I’ve done for you?”
His hand clenches into a fist, but he doesn’t strike again. Instead, he steps back and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a knife. The sight of the blade sends a fresh wave of terror coursing through me. He waves it in front of me, his lips curling into a cruel smile.
“You’re going to behave,” he says, his tone almost mocking, “or this will end very badly for you.”
The sudden sound of shattering glass from upstairs freezes us both. My breath catches, and Charles’s head snaps toward the ceiling, his entire body going rigid. The knife trembles slightly in his hand as he stares at the dark hallway leading to the stairs.
“What the hell was that?” he mutters, his voice low and filled with suspicion.
Every nerve in my body is on edge as he moves toward the staircase, his footsteps cautious and deliberate. The house falls eerily silent, the only sound is my ragged breathing and the faint creak of the wooden steps under his weight.
Then, chaos erupts.
The crash of something heavy colliding with the floor reverberates through the house, followed by muffled shouts and the unmistakable sounds of a struggle. The noises grow louder, followed by the sound of bodies slamming into walls. It makes the room shake. My mind races with the worst possibilities as every second stretches into eternity.
The commotion moves closer, and then Charles’s body crashes down the stairs, landing in a crumpled heap at the bottom. Blood smears the floor where he lands, his face contorted in pain and fury. My breath catches in my throat, and my eyes dart to the top of the stairs.
Earl stands there, his chest heaving, his face bruised and bloodied but alive. Relief floods through me, but it’s short-lived as Charles groans and starts to stir.
“Earl, watch out!” I scream, my voice hoarse and raw.
Earl doesn’t hesitate. He descends the stairs with stunning speed. Grabbing Charles by the collar, he lands a solid punch to his face. The force of the blow sends blood spraying, but Charles fights back, clawing and thrashing like a wounded animal.
“You fucking sick bastard,” Earl roars, his voice echoing with fury.
The fight is brutal, with both men grappling and throwing punches with everything they have. Earl gains the upper hand, pinning Charles to the ground and delivering blow after blow until Charles is barely conscious.
When Earl stops, his chest rises and falls violently as he catches his breath. He turns to me, his eyes softening despite the blood and rage etched into his features.
“I’ve got you,” he says, his voice hoarse as he cuts the ropes binding me.
Before I can answer, Charles lets out a low, guttural laugh. He sits up, his face a bloody mess, and pulls a gun from his waistband.
“If I can’t have her,” he rasps, his voice filled with malice, “no one will.”
The world slows as he raises the gun, aiming it at me. Earl moves faster than I can comprehend. He throws himself in front of me just as the shot rings out.
“Earl!” I scream, as he collapses against me. Blood seeps through his shirt, staining my hands. Screaming, I press against the wound. My vision blurs with tears.
“Oh my God, no,” I say, I can’t say even a word again, tears pouring from my eyes. “Oh my God. Oh my God. No.”
“You’re going to be okay,” I swear to Earl, my voice breaking. “You’re going to be okay.”
Charles remains slumped on the ground, his face swollen and bloodied, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He tries to push himself up, but his arms give out, his strength failing him. His eyes are wild, darting between me and Earl, filled with equal parts fury and desperation.
The gun trembles in his hand, the metallic barrel catching the light and sending chills down my spine. I barely dare to breathe, frozen in place as the room becomes a pressure cooker of tension. Earl stirs in my arms, his face pale and his breaths shallow, but his focus remains locked on Charles.
The distant wail of sirens grows louder, slicing through the suffocating silence. Relief should wash over me, but it doesn’t. The danger isn’t over—not yet. Charles’s gaze shifts toward the door as the sound draws closer, his body tensing like a cornered animal. His lips curl into a twisted smirk, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
“You think this is over?” he rasps, his voice hoarse and broken. He lifts the gun, its barrel wavering as his hand trembles. “You can’t take her from me. She was always mine.”
“Charles, stop!” I scream, my voice cracking with desperation. “For fucks sake stop!”
The front door bursts open with a deafening crash, and police officers flood the room, their shouts cutting through the chaos.
“Drop the weapon!” one commands. All their guns are trained on Charles.
Charles looks around wildly, his breathing frantic, sweat and blood streaking his face. For a moment, his hand lowers, and hope flickers in my chest. But then his eyes meet mine, dark and empty, and I see his resolve harden.
“If I can’t have you …” he whispers, the words trailing off as he raises the gun—not toward us, but toward himself.
“No!” I cry, my voice raw and broken as the gunshot rings out.
The sound is deafening, a sharp crack that reverberates through the room and leaves a ringing in my ears. Charles collapses backward, his body crumpling against the wall like a broken marionette. Blood pools beneath him, staining the wooden floor in a dark, spreading shadow.
My chest heaves with sobs, but I force myself to turn away, to focus on the man in my arms. Earl’s head lolls against my shoulder, his skin cold and clammy. Blood seeps through my fingers as I press against the wound in his shoulder, trying to stem the flow.
“Stay with me,” I plead, my voice trembling. Tears blur my vision as I cradle his face, searching his eyes for any sign of recognition. “Please, Earl, don’t leave me again.”
A faint smile ghosts across his lips. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs, his voice weak but laced with determination. “Not without you.”
A choked sob escapes me as I clutch him tighter. The police move around us, their voices distant and muted in the haze of my panic. Paramedics rush in, their equipment clattering as they begin to assess the scene. One of them crouches beside us. I instantly pull back, but Earl squeezes my hand and won’t let go.
“Save him. Please save him,” I beg to the paramedic.
“It’s okay. I’m not leaving your side,” I whisper and let go of his hand. “Let them help you.”
Earl’s eyes remain on mine as a silent reassurance passes between us. Then he nods and my heart breaks when I release him into their care. My hands are stained red and trembling uncontrollably. I watch them work while my insides are twisted with terror.
As the paramedics lift him onto the stretcher, my legs give out, and I sink to the floor, my chest heaving with quiet sobs. A police officer crouches down beside me. He tries to calm me down and ask me questions, but I can barely process his words.
The only thing I can focus on is Earl disappearing through the door as the paramedics rush him to the ambulance. My heart feels like it’s being ripped from my chest, but amid the terror and despair, one thought anchors me.
We’ve survived this far. We can survive anything.