21. Chapter 21
Chapter 21
Raena
H ope is an illusion.
A survival technique to trick the mind into not giving up. It works. But it can be shattered in an instant. I learned that the hard way. I thought I could handle this. I thought I could do this on my own. I’ve never been more wrong in my life. All it took was for King to make good on his threat, and the fragile hope I’ve been clinging to threatens to turn to ash in my mouth.
I don’t know how much time has passed since I killed my mother. Hours? Days, maybe? A week? I’ve been out of it more than I’ve been conscious. He’s kept me sedated most of the time. I guess I should find small mercies where I can since when I am conscious, the evidence of what I’ve endured is plain as day.
I look down at the dried blood and come coating my body and my inner thighs–new cuts and bruises litter my body like a map.
Some time ago, I don’t know how long, I woke up with three men taking turns with my body. My mind might be groggy and confused, but their faces are now seared into my memory like an etch-a-sketch.
Jackson was one of them. I don’t know where they went, but I’m grateful for the reprieve. I’m so close to giving up and figuring out how to end it all. My body is buzzing like a thousand ants are crawling under my skin, but I know it’s the drugs. He’s keeping me sedated because he’s too much of a pussy to face me like a man–too scared he won’t be able to break me.
I can’t let him know how close I am to that fear becoming a reality.
Where are my Shadows?
Where’s my family?
Will they leave me here and go on about their lives like last time?
Are they looking for me?
Will they save me?
I only allow myself to wallow in my self doubt and pity for a few more minutes before I decide to lock that shit up and figure this out. I have no chance of escaping if he keeps pumping me full of drugs. I need to figure out how to get out now that the drugs seem to be wearing off and I can somewhat think straight.
The lights are off in the room I’m in, but sunlight streams into the window through the curtains. If I can get the window open, maybe I can jump. My head feels fuzzy as I swing my legs over the side of the bed, and it takes a minute to orient myself back into my body. The drugs are fading, but they’re still swimming in my veins like toxic sludge. I don’t know what he gave me, but I think it’s safe to assume it’s not safe at all. My mother was an addict. I hate him even more for putting this shit in my body.
When the room stops spinning, I lift my head to look around. This isn’t the same room I’ve been in. The bed is smaller and shoved into a corner. The window has sheer curtains, but through the streaming light, I can see the bars blocking my escape. Defeat weighs my shoulders down, pinning my chin to my chest and me to the bed.
NO! Shut that shit down. We’re getting out of here.
If there is one thing I learned the last time I was taken, it's I’ve got to save myself. I have faith in my men and in my family, but they can’t save me if he kills me first.
I need to save myself.
Again.
Looking around again, I don’t see anything that can be readily used as a weapon to defend myself. This room is almost as bare as my original cell. I move to the window, testing the bars, but they don’t budge. They aren’t on the outside of the window. They are on the inside, which means they were installed just for the purpose of keeping someone inside this room. Looking out, all I can see are the tops of the trees surrounding the property. This must be the attic.
He brought me to his fucking house.
I mean…it’s a step up from the underground cell I was kept in last time, but this man is fucking delusional if he thinks he can bring me here, and I’ll what, eventually give up fighting him, and we can play house? He’s out of his goddamn mind. But of course, I knew that already. Who in their right fucking mind kidnaps an 18-year-old girl to fucking ‘breed’ her for an heir. Never mind all the other things he’s done to me or allowed his men to do.
I’ve got to figure this out.
The curtains slip between my fingers as I turn from the window to explore the room. The room has a steep A-line roof that I can touch in some places because it’s so low. In the middle of the room, there’s a half-wall. My feet shuffle across the floor on their own accord. It’s difficult to see in the dark, but once I get to it, I stumble back a step. It’s a staircase going into the floor, but I can’t see anything after halfway.
If I have any chance at escaping, I need something to use as a weapon– and some fucking clothes. Squinting my eyes, I scan the rest of the room. Two doors on the wall across the room draw my attention.
The first one I open reveals a bathroom. A toilet sits on one side next to a podium sink and an open shower stall across from it. And that's being modest about it. It’s literally a drain in the tile floor and a rusted sprayer coming out of the wall. It doesn’t look like this room has been used in years, if ever, with the amount of dust and mold living in here. I back out of the tiny bathroom with a grimace, closing the door behind me. When push comes to shove, I’m going to have to use it at some point, and I’m not looking forward to it. It’s a far cry from Alek’s gigantic bathtub or their rainforest shower that feels like a full-body massage.
My chest squeezes tight at the thought of my men. I still don’t understand how quickly I fell for them and them for me. But it’s the realest thing I’ve ever felt in my life. And no matter what, I’m getting the fuck out of here and back to them. Back to my daughter. Whatever it takes.
The next doorknob clicks as it unlatches, but to my dismay, it’s a closet. It’s stuffed full, overflowing boxes and dust bunnies. Maybe I can find something packed away up here that could help me. Anything at all.
Swiping the thick layer of dust off the first box reveals cursive scrawl handwriting. It’s too dark to make out exactly what it says, but I don’t take the time to figure it out. Ripping through the tape, the top flaps open.
Bingo! Clothes.
Thank Fuck!
It’s not going to help me get out of this fucking place but at least I don’t have to fight my way out naked– these fuckers have had enough free access to my body. Though the idea of walking out of this fucking mansion with every inch of my naked body slick with Kingsmen blood and the monsters head in my hands is kind of poetic.
Bloody Queen.
Maddox would be proud.
My heart pinches in my chest. They are counting on me as much as I’m counting on them. Our family will never be safe until King is dead. My daughter will never be safe. Even if I make it out of here alive, there will always be a target on our backs. I’m sick of running. My daughter deserves a normal life. She didn’t ask to be brought into this any more than I did. We’re both collateral damage of someone else’s decision. This ends now. It ends here.
Pulling clothes from the boxes, I manage to find a pair of sweatpants and a fitted tank top. I ignore the musty smell that saturates the fabric from being packed away for God knows how long. It could smell like horse shit, and I wouldn’t care.
Before I can slip the clothes on my body, shouting filters in through the floor, followed by heavy boots, as if people are running. Not wanting to be caught in this closet in case they take away the stuff in here, I put the treasured items back on the top of the box and slip out of the closet. I still don’t have a weapon.
Fuck.
Frantically scanning the room for literally anything, my eyes pause at the window. Without thought, I jerk down the curtains and unsheath the heavy rod– "with decorative points at each end. This will do. I’ll shove this rod up one of their asses before I leave.
Darting across the room, my breath heaves out of me in harsh pants as I crouch down beside the half wall hiding the staircase and try to calm down. My hands have a death grip on the metal rod, and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut.
A door at the bottom of the stairs opens, and gunfire pops in the distance.
Okay, bad-ass Hunter.
Now would be a great time for you to take over.
Heavy footsteps race up the steps, and when they reach the top, I swing for my life. Everything happens in an instant. The rod hits the fucker right in the dick, and he drops to his knees and doubles over.
“You fucking cunt!” He bellows as he rocks.
I’m on him in an instant. Shoving the big fucker over onto his back, I straddle his body and stab him right in his fucking face. The guttural scream that follows doesn’t sound like it came from my body, but I can’t seem to stop it. The rod is lodged in his eye socket, and it squelches when I yank it free. Blood sprays across my bare stomach and breasts, reminding me that I am once again fighting for my life fucking naked.
The rod is slippery as I grip it with both hands and raise it above my head. It’s clear this asshole is already dead, but it doesn’t stop me from stabbing him in his stupid, rapist face until all that's left atop his shoulders is a bloody pulp that’s no longer recognizable.
The makeshift weapon slips from my hands and clatters to the hardwood floor. I can feel my body slipping into the numb, dissociative state that protects me from what I must do as a hunter. But I pull myself back. This isn’t over. I have to get the fuck out of here while I have an opening.
I struggle to climb to my feet as I slip on the blood coating the floor beneath us. It takes a few tries, but I manage to pull myself up to a standing position. I can still hear the commotion going on downstairs, and I know my chances of getting out of this alive are slim. They have guns, and I have a goddamn curtain rod! Odds are definitely not in my favor on this one, but I've beaten impossible odds before. I can do it again. Or die trying. I’d rather die fighting for myself– and my daughter– than give up and wait for King to kill me.
The dead guard has a gun, and I know how to use it. My training at The Sanctuary was well-rounded. Still, I would prefer my daggers. Since that’s not an option at the moment, I snatch the gun from his holster and check the clip. Full. Thank fuck! At least something is going my way.
Gathering every ounce of courage I have, I slam the clip back into the gun and slip down the steps. When I reach the door, the gunfire still sounds like it's far away.
Good.
There’s not a doubt in my mind that they’re here. Who else would be storming this place in a blaze of guns. No one goes against King.
It has to be my Shadows.
I just have to get to them.
And anyone who stands in my way catches a bullet.