Chapter 47 Nyx
NYX
The sun is blaring through the bedroom window and shining directly in my eyes.
I try to turn my head out of the assaulting light, but the pressure of my head lying on that side of my face makes me see stars.
Flinching from the pain and the chain rattling.
I open my eyes to look down at my wrists to discover that I am chained to this damn bed again.
The memories come rushing back. The kidnapping, being chained to this bed, Nick thinking he can make me be with him again, all of it.
Fuck, how hard did he hit me?
My heart rate pounds in my ears, and the throb in my cheek keeps time with it.
I’m sure the skin is split and there is a chance my cheekbone is fractured.
To add to the misery, my stomach growls so loudly, I’m sure if Nick is here he would have heard it.
I couldn’t even begin to tell you how long I have been in this cabin, surrounded by nothing but trees for as far as the eye can see.
Kyra is trapped in this hellscape with me, and I have no plans to get us out.
Between the pain and the hunger, I am lucky I can remember my own damn name.
One thing that never seems to stray too far from my memory is them.
My yin and yang. Demitri, with his dark eyes and dark, tortured soul.
Graham, whose campfire smell lingers at the edges of my memory, his golden retriever energy always brings a smile to my face.
Hope of them finding us slips through my fingers every time I awake to the damn sun in my face, but there is still a small sliver that I cling to.
I refuse to believe that Graham’s hacking skills haven’t figured out who has us.
I think the big thing is finding us. This has got to be one of their hunting cabins.
“Kye, Sunflower? Are you awake over there?” I want to check on her. I don’t hear the guys in the cabin.
BANG! The front door slams open.
“Oh, Baby Girl, are you awake in here?” Nick stomps through the house, making every single floorboard rattle so damn hard I am pretty sure he will fall through one of these days. I gently close my eyes, so as to not aggravate my injuries, and pretend to still be sleeping.
I can hear him in the bedroom now. My heart rate picks up even further because he is so close and there is nothing I can do to defend myself.
His rotten scent assaulting my senses, he smells of cigarettes, stale beer and the fact that I am sure none of us have had a good shower since we arrived.
I have gotten one decent shower, and that is only because he couldn’t tolerate my stench anymore, but that was probably close to a week ago now.
One thing I will continue to cling to is that he is in here with me and not torturing Kyra.
CRACK! Fucking hell, that fucking sucks!
His palm meets my face yet again. God, I am lucky he hasn’t raped me yet, but fuck this slapping me is bullshit.
The pain screams through my already injured cheek.
My eyes bolt open instantly to meet with his shit brown ones.
He is just staring down at me. The smile on his face reminds me of that crazy guy from that movie Split.
You know the one where he has multiple personalities.
I swear that smile will live on in my nightmares after this hell is over. If this hell is ever over.
I am pretty sure something has snapped in him.
His mental health took a nosedive off the pictured rocks in the upper peninsula.
There is a gleam in his eyes that showcases his insanity.
Hell we have all lost weight being up here the last couple weeks, but he looks like a survivor on The Walking Dead who's been wandering the countryside for weeks at a time, just trying to not be eaten. I’m sure I don’t look much better, but I can’t see myself.
The tears leave tracks running down my cheeks, soaking the sheets under my head.
The dickhead couldn’t even manage to give me a fucking pillow.
I refuse to make a sound anytime he assaults me, but the tears are something I have long since quit trying to keep in.
He leans even closer to my face, his breath causing the bile to rise in my throat, and I swallow it down.
His tongue runs a path up the uninjured cheek.
“Yum, your fear and pain taste so sweet.” He purrs in my ear. A full body shudder runs its course through my flesh. I have a snide remark dying to make its appearance, but the abuse isn’t worth the satisfaction of wounding his ego.
“What shall we do with you, Baby Girl? Your boys don’t seem to care if you live or die. Jack said they haven’t caught our scent yet.” Fear and hopelessness is burrowing in my chest, but I will not let him see it.
Still dressed in my soiled sports bra and leggings from when I was taken, Nick decides to run his hands up my thigh, pausing briefly at the waistband.
The lust in his eyes tells me exactly what he is contemplating in his pea brain.
I fight at the chains attached to my limbs again.
The rattling seems to bring him back to reality.
“One of these days I will get what I want.” He sneers. “You are pushing my patience, Nyx.”
“Nick, you honestly do not want me.” My voice quivers slightly, but I force out confidence. “You said it yourself that I was not built for your world of country clubs and charity galas. Just let us go, please.”
“Oh, Baby Girl, you will leave one of two ways. On my arm, or buried out back in a cold shallow grave.” He reaches behind him and pulls out a large hunting knife. Fuck.
“Nicky baby, we both know there would never be a happy marriage between us. I will never be the quiet, demure, trophy wife. Shit, I’m not even pretty enough to be a trophy wife.” I beg him to see reason.
The knife follows the previous path of his hands.
Not enough pressure to cut the material protecting me, but the warning is there.
My nerves are shot, and the chains vibrate with the involuntary movement of my body.
The need to fight back pushing at me, but my head knows, chained like this I can’t win.
If only I could wrap this chain around his throat.
“Well, since we are at an impasse, Baby Girl. I’m going to go play with Kyra until Jack gets back.” He goes to get up from the bed and my heart stops.
“Please don’t-“ it’s all I am able to get out before my voice cracks.
He spins on his heel and embeds the knife in my thigh.
A scream like I have never heard bursts out of my throat.
I look down at the knife sticking out of my leg and the world spins.
My vision blurs out at the edges, and I can hear Kyra crying out for me.
I cannot make out her words over the whooshing in my ears.
A quiet whimper leaves my lips before I can stop it, and he rips the knife out just as brutally as he stabbed me with it.
The blood is only oozing out, so that is a positive sign, I guess.
I’ll slowly bleed out versus him hitting my femoral artery.
He leans down to observe the blood as it makes its exit from my flesh, just staring at the wound like it has a spell on him.
Then his tongue darts out to take the tiniest taste of my blood.
He shrugs his shoulders with that, ‘oh, this isn’t so bad’ look before licking the entire wound.
A deep groan leaves his lips, and I can see him adjusting his cock in his pants.
How was I ever attracted to this man? Talk about not truly knowing someone.
My leaving couldn’t have broken him this bad; it must have just been lingering on the sidelines waiting to make its starting appearance.
Then I remember he murdered Julia and Avery all to try to get me back.
Not to love me and take care of me but to hold me hostage to get his family’s approval back.
“Your tears, your blood, I wonder what I should taste next?” He chuckles low in his throat, and my blood runs cold. He has officially lost his mind.
I know I am in no shape to fight this man, and neither Kyra nor I would be in any condition to run in the cold woods for safety. I have to do something, though. We will not survive.
He leans down close enough to my wrist that I am able to punch out and make contact with his nose.
The cartilage cracks under the force, but all it does is piss him off.
Luckily, he ditched the knife when he pulled it out of my leg, but he proceeds to cram his fingers in the wound.
Pain shoots through my leg, and my vision goes dark once again.