Chapter 33 #2
“One, you quietly disappear from your pathetic life here. Never see or speak to that numbskull again and come back to Boston with me. You come back to the hospital and tell everyone you spent time in another state institution for your mental health, but you are back and doing much better. You should be able to get your job back with my help.”
“I’m not—” I start, trying to reach under my shirt for my knife without him noticing.
“Or you end up like Jessica,” James snarls.
“Jessica?” I question. Completely caught off guard that he’s bringing up his ex-wife—his dead ex-wife.
I buy myself some time, while gripping my knife under my shirt, I try to brush my ass against his bulge to distract him, so he doesn’t notice I’m popping it from the holster. I retch at just barely grazing his dick.
James groans, “Is that a yes to coming home then, baby?”
“What do you mean about Jessica, James?” I question again. Genuinely curious if he’s admitting to something or not.
Spinning me around, James grabs my face forcefully like he’s going to kiss me except he holds my cheeks. James squeezes so hard, it feels like he could crack my jaw.
I try to fight back a wince. I stiffen slightly, but try to coax my body into relaxing as much as I can. My knife is in the perfect position if I need to use it.
Focus Sloan.
“Option two is die, Reese, like Jessica. You don’t want to end up dead like she did, do you?” James questions, venom laced in his words.
I fucking knew it!
“I thought that was an accident.” I play stupid, looking up at him with doe eyes.
“No one leaves me, Reesey. A little brake malfunction goes unnoticed. A car accident is an accident.” He brushes my hair behind my ear, leaning in for a chaste kiss. That immediately has bile rising in the back of my throat.
I squeeze my eyes shut as hard as I can to block out having to watch his lips come near me.
“You cut Jessica’s brakes?” I gasp. Going completely still.
Every inch of my body is screaming for me to run.
“Mmm… She was planning to leave me. I found a bag she had stowed away in our spare bedroom closet. Jessica was going to steal my money and run.” James looks disgusted.
I use my other hand, not holding the knife, to graze the bulge in his pants, to see if I can divert his attention while he’s thinking about Jessica.
I need to get free even if touching him makes me ill. Do it to save your life, Sloan!
James lets out a groan and the second I notice his eyes fluttering closed in pleasure; I bring my knife up swiping at his right wrist.
Blood sprays across my face but I couldn’t care less.
James swings his left hand so hard at my face, he knocks me to the ground. My knife tumbles out of my grip, several feet away from me on the floor.
My cheek is throbbing. My vision blurring slightly at the impact.
I have to make a quick decision to crawl for the knife or make a run for it.
Then it dawns on me. There’s a fire escape in Sutton’s room.
I need to get to the fire escape. I need to get out of here.
James will kill me. He could kill Quinn. What if he did already?
I feel myself almost starting to panic at the thought.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath through my nose. Trying to center myself. I run through all of the training Beck has taught me over the last several months and will the panic at bay. I feel my heartbeat starting to pick up but try to take a few more breaths to keep my mind clear.
I take the opportunity while he’s holding his right wrist with his left hand to make a run up the stairs to Sutton’s room. James is cursing from a distance but I can’t hear what he’s saying.
My mind is set on getting the fuck out of there. Slamming her door and locking it and heading for the fire escape.
As I slide the window up and crawl out of the window, I hear James kicking at the door and screaming at me.
My feet just barely touch the landing, but then I’m rushing down the stairs.
I almost trip closer to the bottom, but catch myself on the railing.
I’m hopping off of the last step in the alleyway when James steps on the landing of the fire escape.
It’s gotten fairly dark. A small street light barely illuminates a path for me to see to the street.
“No one fucking leaves me and lives, Reese! Get fucking back here you, whore!” James hollers out with my knife in his hand.
Screaming for help at the top of my lungs, James catches up to me. Gripping me by the hair and wrenching it. “Shut the fuck up, you little bitch!”
“James don’t. I have a restraining order. You could get arrested. It will ruin your career. Just let me go. Please.”
“You stupid, stupid girl. You really think you could just leave me? Think a restraining order would keep me away? I told you. I ripped that up. It isn’t even valid,” James scoffs, rearing the knife back, like he’s going to plunge it in my abdomen.
“James, please. Just let me go.”
My tears are mixing with his blood on my face. My cheek throbs where he hit me.
James tugs my hair so hard it whips my head back and it throws me off balance, causing me to topple backwards and hit the ground hard. I feel the back of my skull crack off of the pavement.
I hear the thud in my ears. As the air whooshes out of my lungs.
James climbs on top of me, wrapping both hands around my throat and starts squeezing. Harder and harder. His grip a little weaker on the right, but still too hard.
My visions already blurry from hitting my head and now little black spots are dancing behind my eyes.
Don’t panic Sloan. What did Beck teach you? Think.
Inhaling one more deep breath through my nose, I reach up and pull as hard as I can on both of his small fingers, bending them out to the side as far as they go until I hear… Snap.
“You fucking bitch!” James rears back. Letting my throat go, trying to reach for his now broken little fingers. Giving me just enough time to try to scoot back a bit.
As I’m crawling backwards away from James, my right hand grazes a piece of glass from a broken beer bottle. Gripping the broken glass into my palm, I feel it slice my flesh but I welcome the pain. The pain clears some of the fogginess in my head.
So, I lie in wait, waiting for him to attack again.
A few seconds later, James is lunging on top of me. The second his face is near mine; I don’t even give him a chance to get his hands on me again. I just strike.
I swipe the air with the broken glass over and over again to try to keep him out of my face. To get him to back up away from me.
“What the fuck are you doing? Fucking stop!” He lets out a blood curdling scream.
Blood is dripping everywhere I can feel it on my skin. Smell the iron in the air. The metallic taste of it on my lips, mixing with the salt of my tears.
But I keep my eyes squeezed tightly shut and keep swinging. Letting the cold ground seep into my bones.
James is snarling and yelling for me to stop.
“My eyes! My eyes! You fucking bitch!”
A ferocious bark has me snapping my eyes open.
My vision’s a little blurry and my head is pounding.
Blood is dripping everywhere. It looks like a murder scene.
Ash wasn’t wrong. Scalp lacs really do bleed a lot. I think I chuckle before I drift off.