29. Chapter 25 #3
The man behind me yanks me, spins me around, and I feel a searing pain in my back as I slam into a brick wall. My hood slips off my head. Almost immediately, a hand clamps over my mouth again, while the other finds my neck and tightens its grip.
“Who the fuck are you? Because I’m sure I know you,” Owen growls, glancing with one eye. The other can’t even open. “Who are you?”
He lets go of my mouth, eager to hear an answer, but I clamp my lips shut. In response, he tightens the grip on my neck. There’s not enough air. Nothing is enough. My lips part, trying desperately to catch a breath.
“You slipped something into my drink, didn’t you?” he hisses.
“Fuck... you,” I answer with equal venom.
God, even under the influence, he’s as strong as a fucking horse. I don’t stand a chance against him, but I refuse to give up without a fight.
Grabbing his arm with both hands, I dig my nails into his skin. But it seems to make no impression on him.
“I don’t know how you did it, and I don’t give a shit. I’m asking who the fuck you are! You were standing there in the crowd. That’s when I saw it. I know you. But from where?”
“From hell. The one you created for me.” I’m gasping, but only after those words does his grip loosen.
“You fucking bitch!”
Owen can’t believe his eyes. With the hand that was choking me, he hurls me to the ground like a rag doll.
Just like you sometimes see in movies, I roll a few times.
Pain shoots through my knees and hip; something sharp cuts through the skin on my left hand.
It stings like hell. But the most important thing is that I can finally catch my breath.
His hand may not be on my neck, but I still feel its presence. I struggle to draw air into my lungs.
However, the most dangerous aspect is that I’m facing away from the enemy. By the time I realize this, it’s already too late. I’m scrambling to my feet and am on my knees when a solid kick hits my stomach. With a groan, I fall onto my back.
Owen’s advantage, despite the drug he took, isn’t speed at all—it’s strength. Unfortunately, I didn’t take that away from him. And now it’s my downfall.
A heavy body presses down on me as he sits on my waist. My neck feels the snake-grip of his fingers again.
Fuck. This isn’t good!
“Hello, little Zoe,” he growls, baring his teeth, the predator that he is. “When you spoke, I looked into your eyes. You’ve changed. How are you, little sister?”
“I’m not—your—little sister.”
“You’re right, you’re not. It’s hard to believe you’ve betrayed me like this. You’ve ruined everything I’ve worked for these past few years.”
“You deserve it.” My breath sounds like a whistle.
He sneers. “But I’ve thought about you all these years. I wondered what was happening to you, where my favorite toy was.”
“Toy? You tormented me. You wanted to kill me.”
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t... You were the perfect escape from all the shit life brought to our door. And now you’ve come to me on your own. Isn’t that ironic?”
My childhood rival, my tormentor. Hatred and disgust fill me. Looking into that one open eye, I see that the same bastard is sitting inside.
Swollen cuts and a puffy cheek match the dried blood on his face. I don’t want this to be the last face I see in my life.
“It’s your time to die. There’s nothing I wanted more growing up in that fucked-up house. I wanted to see the life drain from your eyes.” Drops of his spit land on my face as he speaks. His hand clenches again.
I made a mistake.
Eli…
His face appears in my mind.
He’ll be furious when he finds out what I did, how much I put myself at risk.
I blink a few times to focus my vision, but it’s no use. Everything I see blurs.
No! No! No!
It can’t end like this!
I try to kick my legs, but it’s useless. He’s too heavy to shake off. With my arms outstretched, I frantically feel around the surrounding ground.
Nothing… Nothing…
Until finally I find something. Something hard. A rock? A piece of brick?
It doesn’t matter.
I grab it between my fingers and pull it closer until I can cup it in my entire hand. And then…
I stop wondering who I am.
And I act.
With all the strength I have left, I strike Owen on the head. His face shows rage, but the drugs daze him, preventing him from reacting in time.
Thud… Thud… Thud…
I don’t even know anymore if it’s my heart pounding hard or the sound of the blows.
My hand doesn’t stop until Owen’s heavy body falls limply onto me. Blood from his head runs down onto my face. Only then does my hand go still, falling to the ground.
I’m exhausted, but if I don’t move Owen, he’ll suffocate me anyway. I can’t breathe!
My hand opens, and I drop the object that saved my life. With my last ounce of strength, I push him off me. His body slides to the ground, and I catch my breath.
For a moment, I don’t have the strength to move. I just turn my face toward my tormentor.
He’s lying on his back, his face turned toward me, eyes open. But he isn’t moving.
Oh my God, oh my God…
He isn’t moving!
What have I done…?
What have I done?!
All I can manage is to press my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming as terror grips me in its claws.
And then one thing dawns on me.
I don’t know if I’ve just saved myself…
or if I’ve destroyed everything.