58. CHAPTER 53
SAYLOR
The camera light in the corner is off. Ryan killed it with a small remote when he walked in, which tells me everything I need to know about why he’s here. And I have to be fucking ready. This could be my only chance.
He’s standing between me and the door with his arms crossed, taking his time. He’s in no rush. He thinks I’m chained and helpless, and every second he takes is proof that he’s enjoying this.
“I told you I’d check on you.” He tilts his head, looking me over. “And your brother is busy at the moment.”
I don’t respond. My right hand is at my side, inches from the knife pressed against my hip.
My fingers want to close around it, but I don’t let them.
He’s too far away. If I go for it now and miss, I don’t get a second chance.
I need him to keep thinking he has the upper hand so I can catch him off guard.
“Nobody’s coming for you, Saylor.” He flippantly waves his hand. “Your boyfriend is dead. And as far as the rest of the world is concerned, you died in the same explosion.”
“How?” I force my lip to quiver. I need him to think I’m broken. I need him to keep talking and give me the chance I need.
His smile widens. “That bitch Tracy made a pretty convincing you.”
My blood goes cold. Tracy. The woman he fucked in our bed to make me think Axl was cheating. I hated her. I wanted to rip her hair out every time she opened her mouth. But I didn’t want her dead, and definitely not because of anything to do with me.
“What the fuck did you do to her?”
Ryan shrugs. “After an explosion, who can tell the difference between blondes?” He snaps his fingers. “Saylor Carter died in the blast. Everybody mourns. And nobody comes looking for you.”
He’s fucking proud of it. Like she didn’t matter.
I grip the blanket in my lap to keep my hand from going to the knife. My knuckles are clenched tight, and I need him to stop talking and come closer, but he’s still too far away. I don’t want him to see me coming.
“Won’t someone be looking for her?” I let my voice break, and my shoulders drop. I need to pretend to be the broken girl he thinks I am.
“Her stepdaddy might be pissed.” He pushes off the wall and uncrosses his arms. “But it’s what we were told to do. And he’s got enough shit to deal with, thanks to your dead boyfriend and his friends.”
Why would anyone want Tracy dead? Who is he talking about? Justin wouldn’t give a shit about Tracy.
Ryan’s moving closer now. His eyes run down my body, and I can see exactly what he’s here for.
“That bitch was a lousy fuck.” Ryan watches my face like he knows something I don’t and wants to see the moment I figure it out. “You sure were pissed thinking your dude fucked her. I was hoping I’d get to watch you kick her ass.”
“It was you. You pretended to be Axl.” I pretend like I hadn’t already figured that out.
He grins. “Took you long enough.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender.
“Your brother wanted you away from Hollister, and I got to fuck. Win-win.” He brings his finger to his lips.
“But that’s our little secret. I’m not supposed to have pussy right now.
You know how the Ravens are with their stupid goddamn rules. ”
Ryan steps closer, and I brace myself to get ready. I won’t feel the least bit sorry about stabbing this fucker, and I’m going for the fucking kill.
He stops a few feet from the bed. His hand goes to his belt. He unzips his pants without taking his eyes off me and leaves them hanging open.
“Lie down for me like the eager whore I know you are.”
I lie back on the mattress. I keep my right hand at my side, fingers resting against the gown where the knife is pressed against my hip. The blade is already open. I stare at the ceiling and let every muscle in my body go slack, doing my best to make him think he’s won.
“There you go.” His tone is even more condescending. “See how easy this is when you behave? You can fight me when I make it hurt.”
He puts one knee on the mattress and leans over me. His hand reaches for my thigh. His eyes are on my tits covered by the gown. He’s not looking at my hands.
I think of Axl and what he taught me to do. Before he knows what’s happening, I drive the blade into the side of his neck, twist, and then pull down, severing his artery.
His eyes go wide. His mouth opens in a scream. His hand goes to his throat and blood gushes through his fingers, covering both of us. There’s so much fucking blood, just like Axl said there would be.
I pull the knife out and shove him to the side so he falls onto the bed. He’s trying to speak, but there’s nothing coming out except gurgles and air. He keeps pressing against the wound. The blood doesn’t stop.
I shift so I’m standing on the floor by the bed, watching him. My hands are covered in his blood, and the knife is dripping onto the floor.
Ryan rolls onto his back and stares at me. His eyes are wide, and his face is white. The blood is coming too fast. It’s soaking through the sheets and pooling under his shoulder.
He tries to say something. His lips move, and blood comes out instead of words. I watch his chest heave once. His hand slips from his neck and lands on the mattress.
He stops moving.
I stand braced and ready until I’m sure he’s gone—until his chest doesn’t rise again, his eyes go glassy, and he’s staring at nothing. Ryan is fucking dead.
My hands and legs shake. There’s blood on every part of me—my hands, my arms, the hospital gown, my face. I grip the knife tighter and step back from the bed until the chain pulls tight on my ankle.
It’s only a matter of time before someone comes in here. So I have to be ready, because I won’t have the same element of surprise once they see Ryan like this.
I focus on the door and wait.