His Revenge In My Bed

26. Alex

The world didn't go black. It didn't even go cold. There was just a sudden thud against my ribs, like a fist punching me right through my shirt.

I looked down slowly.

The long silver carving knife was sticking out of the left side of my chest but it hadn't gone all the way in. The blade was dull, meant for slicing cooked meat, not puncturing bone. It had only pierced the surface, biting just deep enough into the muscle to get stuck.

Then came the heat. A warm, thick rush of dark red blood began to leak out from beneath the metal, soaking into the white shirt and spilling down my stomach in slow drops.

I didn't feel pain yet. I just felt shocked.

I looked back up at Josephine. She was still leaning across the table, her hands empty, her chest heaving up and down like she had just run a mile.

Her eyes were wide, glassy, and completely wild.

The adrenaline was rolling off her in waves, making her fingers twitch and her teeth chatter.

She looked like a cornered animal that had finally used its claws.

Before I could even draw a breath to speak, a chair flew backward, crashing loudly against the marble floor.

"Alex!"

Aisling screamed my name, and in an instant, she rushed around the table. She didn't even look at the knife first. Her face was twisted into a look of absolute, burning hatred. She threw her hand back and slapped Josephine hard across the face.

The sound of her hand hitting Josephine's cheek echoed through the huge room. The force of the blow spun Josephine's head to the side, sending her crashing down onto the floor. She collapsed onto her hands and knees, clutching her face, a small sob tearing from her throat.

"You crazy bitch!" Aisling shrieked as she stepped over Josephine, wanting to kick her, wanting to do more, "How dare you touch him! How dare you!"

Then, Aisling dropped to her knees beside my chair.

Her hands were shaking violently as she reached for my chest, her long nails almost brushing the handle of the knife.

Her eyes were full of tears, her face was pale, "Alex, oh my God, Alex, look at me.

Let me see it. I'll call the doctor. I'll fix it. "

I didn't look at Aisling. My eyes were still fixed on the floor, on the small, shivering shape of Josephine. Her cheek was already turning a bright, angry red where Aisling had struck her. She looked so small, so broken, hiding her face in her hands.

An unexpected surge of anger, not at the knife in my chest, but at the blow to Josephine's face, made my jaw tighten.

"Aisling," I said through clenched teeth.

"Alex, don't talk, you're bleeding-"

"Aisling! Stop!" I snapped, forcing myself to sit up straighter. The movement made the knife shift, and a stinging bite of pain finally flared in my chest, but I ignored it. I grabbed Aisling's wrist, pulling her hands away from my wound, "Why did you slap her?"

Aisling blinked at me, her mouth falling open in shock. She looked at my bleeding chest, then back at my face, her eyes wide with total confusion, "What? Alex, she just tried to kill you! She stabbed you!"

"I don't care," I hissed, my eyes boring into hers until she flinched. "I told you what the rules were in this house. I didn't tell you to touch her. I didn't give you permission to lay a hand on her face."

"She's a monster like her mother!" Aisling cried, her voice breaking as she looked toward Josephine, her chest swelling with a bitter rage, "She wants you dead, Alex! Why are you protecting her?!"

"That's enough, Aisling," I ordered softly, releasing her wrist, "Go get the medical kit from the hall. Now."

Just as Aisling turned, from the floor, a loud, wild shriek ripped out of Josephine's throat. It didn't sound human.

Before Aisling could even stand up, Josephine scrambled off the floor. She lunged forward with a burst of crazy speed and tackled Aisling right to the ground. The two of them crashed onto the hard marble floor.

Josephine landed squarely on top of Aisling's chest, pinning her down. Her hair was flying everywhere, her eyes totally blank with rage.

"Get off me! Get off-" Aisling screamed, but the words were cut short.

Josephine raised her fist and slammed it down hard into Aisling's face.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Aisling shrieked, trying to throw her arms up to cover her head, but Josephine was too fast.

Josephine threw another punch, her knuckles hitting Aisling's nose with a loud crunch.

Then another one. And another one. She kept raining her fists down over and over again, punching Aisling's cheeks, her jaw, her eyes.

She put all her weight into every single hit.

Blood from Aisling's nose started to smear across the white floor.

"Josephine, stop!" I shouted, pushing myself out of the chair.

The movement sent a horrible, burning line of pain straight through my chest. The carving knife wobbled in the wound, tearing the skin further, and more warm blood poured down my shirt.

I stumbled over to them and reached down. I grabbed Josephine by the waist, "Get off her!" I told her, pulling back with all my strength.

Josephine fought me. She screeched and thrashed, kicking her legs out and trying to reach forward to punch Aisling just one more time.

She was like a wild cat, completely out of control.

I had to use every bit of my power, ignoring the tearing pain in my own chest, to physically rip her away.

With a loud grunt, I yanked her completely off Aisling and threw her backward onto the carpet.

Josephine hit the floor hard, sliding a few feet.

I immediately dropped to my knees beside Aisling, "Aisling," I muttered, leaning over her. "Aisling, look at me."

Aisling was sobbing, her hands over her face.

Her nose was bleeding heavily, the bright red liquid leaking through her fingers and staining her dress.

Her lip was split wide open, and her left eye was already starting to swell up into a dark, ugly purple bruise.

She was shaking all over, making small, terrified choking noises.

While I was looking down, checking the damage on Aisling's face, I heard a sharp gasp behind me.

The sound of bare feet slapping frantically against the marble floor filled the room.

I whipped my head around.

Josephine was already on her feet. She didn't look back at us. She didn't look at the knife she had put in my chest. She just turned on her heel and sprinted out of the dining room, her chain rattling and clinking loudly against her ankle as she made a desperate, wild run for the front doors.

I pushed myself up from the floor, the movement caused the knife in my chest to twist. I grunted, my hand flying to my shirt to hold the metal handle steady so it wouldn't cut deeper.

I didn't look at Aisling anymore. I turned and walked out of the dining room, following the frantic, echoing sound of the chain.

Clink-clink-clink-clink.

She was running fast. I walked into the grand hallway.

A few yards ahead, I saw her. Her blonde hair was a messy cloud behind her, her bare feet slapping hard against the cold floor.

She reached the massive wooden front doors, threw her weight against the brass handles, and burst out into the freezing morning air.

I didn't run after her. I didn't need to.

I walked calmly to the small side table near the entryway. My hand was wet with my own blood, leaving a dark smudge on the wood as I reached into the drawer. My fingers wrapped around the small remote control for the outer estate grounds.

I stepped out onto the stone patio. The bitter wind hit my face. Down in the massive yard, Josephine was a tiny shape stumbling through the grass. She was heading straight for the giant, ten-foot-high iron bars of the perimeter fence.

I lifted the remote. My thumb pressed hard against the red button.

In the distance, the iron gears of the front gates groaned. Slowly, loudly, the massive metal doors began to swing outward, parting right down the middle. They opened up wide, revealing the empty main road that led away from the mansion.

I watched her stop for a split second, her head whipping up as she realized the path was completely clear.

There were no locks holding her back anymore.

No walls. No dogs. An easy, perfect escape was sitting right in front of her.

She let out a frantic sob that the wind carried back to me, and then she sprinted forward, her bare feet tearing through the mud as she ran through the open gap and out.

I leaned my back against the cold stone pillar of the porch, a slow smile spreading across my lips despite the blood soaking through my shirt.

"Run, Josephine," I whispered, watching the distance swallow her up, "Run as fast as your legs can carry you."

You can't escape me, little sister. I will let you run until your feet bleed, until the cold eats into your bones, and until you realize there is nowhere else for a monster to go but back to the person who made her.

My feet slapped the hard, black asphalt over and over again.

Slap, slap, slap.

I ran. I didn't look back. I couldn't look back. Every time I tried to slow down, the image of Alexander with that knife in his chest flashed in my mind, and my legs just kept moving on their own.

My bare feet had started bleeding. I could feel the sharp edges of tiny stones cutting into my skin, leaving red smudges on the road behind me. The iron chain was still locked around my ankle. Every single step I took, it yanked against my skin, bruising the bone.

The sound was so loud in the quiet morning. It felt like a bell, telling everyone exactly where I was. Telling him exactly where to find me.

"Help!" I tried to scream, but the word came out as a dry cough.

I swallowed hard, trying to find some spit in my mouth. My throat burned like I had swallowed sand. I pushed myself to run faster, my arms pumping at my sides.

"Help me! Please! Anybody!"

My voice echoed off the tall trees lining the road.

There were no cars. There were no houses.

Just endless rows of thick, dark pine trees and the grey road stretching out forever.

The panic in my chest was a living thing, clawing at my ribs, forcing me to keep going even though my muscles felt like they were on fire.

I stumbled, my toe catching on a crack in the pavement. I went down hard, my hands scraping against the gravel.

"Ow!" I sobbed, pushing myself back up immediately. I didn't care about the skin missing from my palms. I didn't care about the wet mud on my knees. I had to get away.

I got back on my feet, my breath coming in short, loud shrieks now. I looked down the long, empty road. The fog was rolling in from the trees, making everything look blurry and strange.

"Is anybody there?!" I screamed into the grey mist, my tears finally spilling over and mixing with the dirt on my face, "Please! Help me! He's going to come for me! Help!"

I kept running, my eyes darting to the left and right, looking for a sign of life, a driveway, a mailbox, anything. But there was nothing.

Finally, in the distance, through the thick grey fog, I saw headlights.

A car was coming.

My heart jumped straight into my throat. I didn't think. I didn't care who it was. I just sprinted right into the very center of the black road. I stood right between the yellow lines, my bare, bloody feet pressing into the cold pavement.

"Stop! Stop!" I screamed.

I threw my arms up high above my head, waving them frantically back and forth. The car was getting closer, moving fast. The engine made a loud roaring sound that filled the empty space between the trees.

"Please! Help me! Stop the car!"

I began to jump up and down, ignoring the biting pain in my cut feet. The heavy chain around my ankle rattled wildly, clinking against the asphalt. The car didn't seem to slow down at first.

"Help! Please, don't hit me! Just stop!"

I screamed until my lungs felt like they were going to burst. Tears were streaming down my face, washing clean lines through the dirt on my cheeks. My whole body was shaking so hard my teeth were clicking together.

Suddenly, the loud screech of rubber hit my ears.

The driver slammed on the brakes. The black tires skidded over the wet asphalt, sliding sideways just a little bit.

The car stopped. It stopped just a few feet away from my knees. I fell forward onto the hood of the car, my scraped, bloody palms smacking against the metal. I couldn't stand up straight anymore, my legs were shaking like jelly.

"Help," I sobbed, my face pressed close to the glass, trying to see the person sitting inside the dark cabin, "Please open the door. He's coming. He's going to kill me. Please let me in!"

Across the front of the car, the passenger door swung wide. A rush of warm air from the heater spilled out, hitting my freezing face.

"Get in! Inside, quick!" a deep voice called out.

I scrambled around the front of the car, my hands slipping on the wet metal hood. I grabbed the edge of the door frame and threw myself into the seat, pulling my muddy legs inside. The chain around my ankle hit the plastic floorboard as I pulled the whole thing inside.

The driver was a man. He looked like he was in his late twenties. His eyes were wide with shock as he looked at me. He looked at my messy, bird-nest hair, the dark mud caked on my face, and then down at the bloody gashes on my bare feet.

"Fucking hell," he stated, "What happened to you? Are you okay? Who did this?"

The words bubbled out of my throat in a wild, messy rush. I couldn't stop them, "He kept me in a room! He put a chain on my leg! I had to crawl on the floor! He treated me like an animal! I had to stab him with a knife to get out, and then the gates just opened, and I ran, I just ran and ran-"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," the man said, "Someone locked you up? Where?"

"He's coming!" I shrieked, as I grabbed his arm, my fingers digging into the light fabric of his sleeve. I shook him, my eyes darting to the side mirror, "He's following me! Alexander is following us! We have to go! We have to get out of here right now! Please! Just drive!"

The man saw the pure terror in my eyes, and he didn't ask any more questions. He threw the car into drive, and the tires gave a small spin before gripping the road.

"Okay, okay, listen to me," the man said quickly, his eyes flicking up to the rearview mirror as the car started to gain speed, "If he's behind us, he's going to look through the windows. He's going to see you in the passenger seat."

"No, no, no," I whimpered, pulling my knees up to my chest and shaking all over.

"Get down," he ordered, using one hand to point at the dark space, "Get down on the floorboard, under the dashboard. Hide under the seat."

I didn't hesitate for a single second. I slipped out of the soft fabric of the seat and crammed my body down into the cramped, dark footwell.

I curled into the smallest ball possible, my chin pressed against my knees, my back bent double.

The metal chain pressed hard against my shin, but I barely felt it.

"Hold still," the man muttered.

He reached into the backseat with one arm and pulled a black suit jacket forward. He shook it out and draped it completely over my head and shoulders.

"Don't move," his voice came from above the cloth, "Stay completely under it."

"Okay," I whispered into the dark fabric, my breath hot against my own knees.

I tucked the edges of the jacket tightly around myself until there was only a tiny, finger-sized gap left near the top. The darkness wrapped around me, hiding my face. The only thing I could see through the tiny opening was the side of the man's leg and his hand resting on the gear shift.

I pressed my hands against my ears under the coat, trying to blot out the sound of the clinking chain, praying to a God I hadn't believed in for years that the car would just keep moving, and that the man's foot would never hit the brakes again.

The hum of the tires suddenly changed. The car slowed down, tilting slightly to the side as it made a turn.

Then, the car stopped.

I stayed frozen under the jacket and I squeezed my eyes shut, "Are we there?" I whispered into the darkness of the coat, "Are we at the police station?"

The man didn't answer right away. I heard the fabric of his shirt rustle as he shifted in his seat.

"Yeah," his voice came from above me. It sounded different now, "We're here."

The driver's side door clicked and swung open. A rush of freezing morning air rushed into the car, swirling under the jacket and making my goosebumps flare. I heard the thud of his boots stepping out onto the ground, and then the door slammed shut.

I waited for him to come around to my side. I waited to hear the police station doors open.

Instead, the sound of his footsteps crunched against the gravel, moving away from the car.

"Hey, Alex!" the man shouted, his voice full of friendly amusement, "I think your little pet was about to run away. Luckily, I caught it down by the main road."

The blood in my veins turned to absolute ice.

My breath caught in my throat. The darkness under the jacket suddenly felt like a coffin. My hands shook so violently that I couldn't grip the fabric.

I ripped the coat off my head, throwing it away like it was on fire.

I scrambled up from the floorboard, my knees banging hard against the dashboard. The heavy chain around my ankle let out a mocking clank as I threw my body back onto the passenger seat.

Mh eyes widened with a horror so deep it made me dizzy.

There was no police station.

There were no blue lights or brick walls.

The car was parked right in the center of the gravel driveway. Behind us, the massive, ten-foot-high iron gates were already completely closed, locking out the rest of the world.

The man who had picked me up was standing by the front of the car, tossing his keys in the air with a smug grin.

And then my eyes drifted to the stone steps of the house.

Alexander was standing there.

The carving knife was gone, leaving a wet tear in the fabric where the blade had bitten into his flesh. The blood was still leaking out, dripping slowly down the front of his clothes, but he didn't seem to notice the pain at all.

He was looking directly through the windshield. Directly at me.

His lips curved upward into a slow smile. It was the smile of a master watching a dog run right back into its cage after a long chase.

I pressed my palms against the glass, my chest heaving as a broken sob ripped from my throat.

I had never actually escaped.

The open gates, the empty road, the car... it had all been a trap. He had let me run just to show me that the whole world belonged to him.