Chapter 10 #3
Blood spills from the wound in the side of her body and her breathing shallow. Her whimpers slice into me and all I want to do is go to her. But I know I don’t have the time. She bought me a few moments, and I will not waste them. I must get away before I’m next.
I look at her and meet her bright golden eyes. The eyes that were just begging for a pretzel less than an hour ago. The eyes that I have looked into for the last six years. I try and silently plead to her how sorry I am that I can’t save her right now.
Call me crazy, but I feel like she understands, and the look she returns gives me the strength I need to get up.
I gather every ounce of strength I have left and scramble to my feet. Tyler is wiping the blood from his knife onto his pant leg, and I take the opportunity to run. Limping toward the door, I manage to put the couch between us before I slip on Belle’s blood and fall again to my knees.
Fuck. Get up. You have to get up.
His sneakers squeak on the hardwood floor as he slowly steps around the side of the couch, dragging the tip of the blade across the fabric. Each stitch that pops as he gets closer, sends a shiver down my spine.
Squeak, scratch, pop.
Squeak, scratch, pop.
My breathing is ragged as I force myself to stand up, my body shaking. Move. You just have to move.
“Where do you think you’re going cunt?” The front door is within my grasp when I feel Tyler grab me by the hair and pull me backwards into the kitchen. Prickles of pain spread across my scalp as he tightens his grip and pulls me against his front.
He puts the edge of the knife against the side of my neck, and I feel the bite of cold steel when it digs into my skin.
“I was going to take you to my boss to deal with. He’s been wanting to get his hands on you for a while.
But now,” He licks the side of my face, and I feel the rumble of his chest with his sadistic laughter.
“I think I’ll slit your throat right here and deal with the consequences of his disappointment later. ”
Please don’t let me die. Not here. Not like this.
If I am going to die, I’m not going to make it easy for him.
My hands flail aimlessly around me, searching for something, anything, that could help. The more I move, the deeper I feel the edge of the knife cutting me. If I’m not careful, he is going to cut my carotid artery and then it’s lights out.
His grip tightens around me, and he moves us deeper into the kitchen towards the bedroom. “I think I’ll have a little fun with you first.” Cold dread floods my veins. He’s going to rape me first.
Use my body one more time before disposing of it.
The fuck he is. I vowed to myself when I escaped before that I was never going to let another man rape me again if I could help it.
I see something on the counter, and I know that this is my only chance.
I twist within his grasp, grabbing the container from the counter and toss the contents over my shoulder, splashing him in the face. The hot liquid clinging to his skin. I barely feel the sting of the grease as it burns the skin on my shoulder.
Instantly he drops the knife and covers his face with his hands. The moment it clatters to the ground, I swipe my foot and kick it out of reach. I try to run to the front door again, but his hand grabs my arm, preventing me from getting any further.
On instinct, I grab the frying pan from the stove top, turn around, and swing blindly. It connects to the side of his head with a loud crack, the vibration shooting through my injured hand.
Tyler’s eyes roll to the back of his head before he falls to the ground, hitting the counter on his way down. As the blood pours from the gash on the side of his head, my feet are frozen in place.
Oh my goodness. Did I just kill him?
I have never even punched anyone before. Now I’m a murderer?
Panic overcomes me once again, snapping my attention back to Belle. I drop the frying pan and rush over to her, praying by some miracle, she is still alive. When I reach her, she’s still bleeding and barely breathing.
Grabbing the nearest item I could find, I apply pressure to her wound. Her whimpers etching themselves into my very soul. Tears fill my vision, and I can barely see what I am doing.
“Shhhh. Shhh. I know sweetheart. I know it hurts, but mommy has to do this. I have to stop the bleeding.” I have one hand applying pressure and the other gently petting the side of her face. She looks at me with pain filled eyes and her shallow breathing begins to slow.
Her blood soaks through the blanket in a matter of seconds and the realization hits me. I’m not going to be able to save her. My baby is dying and all I can do is be here for her when she goes.
Please don’t go. Please God, don’t take her away from me. She’s all I have.
Almost as if checking and making sure I was ok, she lifts her head and licks my knee.
“I’m okay sweetie.” Gently petting the top of her head, I let her know it’s okay to go.
“You did so well. Mommy is here and I’m not going anywhere.
It’s okay.” She lays her head back down, the light leaving her eyes, and exhales one last time.
My sobs echo throughout the room and my body shakes as I come down from the adrenaline. I’m pretty sure I broke my wrist, but I can’t bring myself to care.
Numb, I move mindlessly towards the spot where my phone hit the wall. The screen is shattered, and the back has come off, but I think I can still use it. At least long enough to make a call.
I tap the screen and put it up to my ear.
Please work. Please fucking work.
Dial tone. My shoulders drop and a heavy exhale breaks the silence of the world around me.
Belle lies on the floor, her fur soaked and matted with blood. I can't stand to see her anymore and force myself to look away. Taking my phone, I retreat to the bedroom and close the door, putting as much distance between us as I can.
My hands tremble, smearing blood across the screen as I open my messages and tap the number at the top. It rings twice and his voice greets me on the other side.
My voice breaks and I say the only thing I can think of. “Isaac… I need you.