Chapter 17 #2
The senseless killing, them using my body as if it’s a weapon to be wielded and played with. There is no pleasure to be felt anymore, only pain. My inner darkness has continued to creep closer to the surface, pressing against the walls I’ve built, trying to take over.
I need to get out of here, killing the darkness within me once and for all, but how?
How can I run when I never get to be alone?
How can I hide when I’m always being watched?
The click of the lock undoing drags my attention to the door, the familiar sound signaling my space is about to be invaded.
The door creaks open, a small head peaking in and I sigh in relief.
A grin tugs at the edges of my lips seeing him enter the room, as it means I won’t be in pain.
He sets the meal tray down beside me on the bed, moving over to the far wall to lean against it while he waits for me to finish.
If it was any other guard coming in, they would take what they wanted from my body—whether I fought it or not—before allowing me to eat.
Their actions would always leave me feeling too nauseated to even think about having a meal.
I would scarf down whatever I was given, my stomach threatening to expel it the second I did, but if I didn’t eat, my strength would dissipate.
I would be left entirely defenseless, to the mercy of these men and their tiny dicks. But not with Jerome…
Don’t get me wrong, he’s just as psychotic as the lot of them, but he seems to have taken a liking to me.
Or at least grown a minor soft spot. He doesn’t take from me anymore, instead requesting I stand bare before him while he masturbates.
Getting himself off into a cloth or a tissue instead of on my skin.
There are no demands when he brings my meals either, which I’m forever grateful for.
It may not seem like much, but after over ten years of having all my control stripped from me, I’ll take what I can get.
Just like every other time he delivers, I expect to spend the time together in silence. All words of hate and anger between us have long been said, now we’re just two people who choose not to initiate conversation. So, when he clears his throat while walking closer to me, I’m wary.
Stunned into a frozen state. The sandwich in my hand falls against the tray, the soft thud of the bread is the only other sound, save for my ragged breathing. My jaw hangs open as he prowls towards me, a vision of death in his own right. And then for the first time in years, he speaks to me.
“I’m only going to be able to say this once, so listen quietly. I will come to get you in three days' time. Be ready. Don’t ask questions, don’t speak and most of all, don’t look back. If I need you in the future, I’ll reach out to you to recover the debt,” he whispers, hushed and low.
I nod my head, still stunned into a silent state, as I pick my sandwich up to finish.
The rest of my meal, Jerome goes back to the wall, and the room returns to silence.
In my head however, there is anything but silence.
My mind is yelling at me, questions tumbling over each other trying to find an answer.
Why now? Why is he helping me? What is his plan?
Is this another trap? Trap or not, I need to take this out.
There’s never going to be another opportunity like this and I can’t waste it.
Three days pass and the time has come. I’ve sat in the room, quiet and waiting, ready at a moment’s notice.
The sounds of a scuffle outside the room, followed by a large bang, has me shooting into a standing position.
Something—or someone—hits the door, and I grab the bag Jerome brought me yesterday.
The clothing I’ve been given, and minor personal items have been shoved inside, waiting for our time.
My breath stalls with anticipation as the familiar click of the lock echoes throughout the room once more. My lungs burn for air, but I’m too nervous to breathe. Hoping and praying it’s Jerome on the other side, and not someone else.
The door swings open with a loud thud, the air rushing from my lungs when Jerome’s face comes into view.
I rush towards him, his arms holding out a handgun and blade for me to arm myself.
His instructions are clear, no sound, no questions, and no looking back as I follow him out of the room and down the corridor.
We hug the walls, sticking to them like glue and watching for anybody coming this way.
Every step takes me closer to the freedom I’ve been desperate to see and further away from the horrors I’ve felt.
We move slowly, creeping towards the staircase at the end of the hall.
Time drags as we descend, seconds feeling like minutes, minutes like hours, as we head for the main floor. Of course, nothing stays that easy.
Three men stand at the far end of the room, talking about jobs while they smoke their cigarettes.
Jerome pulls me, throwing me into a nearby room for cover as we listen to their ramblings and complaints.
The radio’s on their hips cut in, orders being shouted through staticky reception and two out of the three walk off to the left.
The last man stays in his spot, standing guard as his name is called and he’s joined.
Dwight.
My eyes find Jerome’s, as my heart creates a new rhythm based in fear.
I gaze into his eyes as they stare back at me, wondering how we’re supposed to get passed without being noticed—or shot.
Jerome’s gaze narrows, creases forming around the edges as he shakes his head.
The quiet answer to my fear. We’re not trying to avoid.
With a signal to me that he’s got the left and I’m to take out the right, my heart drops and my adrenaline surges.
Taking out the right means that Dwight is in my crosshairs and I’m responsible for making him drop.
I take a steadying breath, the fear I may miss almost as strong as the enjoyment at my revenge.
My arms sneak around the corner, braced against the door frame as I aim for my target.
Three.
Two.
One.
Two bangs ring through the walls simultaneously, with two bodies hitting the floor directly after.
The breath I had been holding leaks from my throat and my eyes close, heavy from relief.
He’s gone, dead. The man I can safely say has been my worst tormentor, has been wiped from the earth. By my hand no less.
We don’t wait as we run through the rest of the house.
The gun shots have alerted the guard that something is amiss and now there’s not a second to waste.
Running out of the house, the yard is formidably easier to get through.
Only needing to end a few more Havoc Viper members, before breaching the compound's borders.
Jerome stays with me until I make it to the nearest bus station.
Handing me a rolled-up wad of cash, a secondary magazine fully stocked with bullets, and a single ticket for New Jersey.
He says nothing, but the look in his eyes would have me believing—if only delusionally—he may actually miss me.
Patting me on the shoulder, he turns, ready to head back to the chaos we left behind, but there’s something that still gnaws at me from the inside.
“Jerome,” I call, watching him stop but not turn around. “Why?”
This time, his head pivots to the side, one eye looking over his shoulder towards me.
“After everything he did, everything we all did, you survived. You chose to get stronger, to keep going. His plans were to kill you this weekend—an accident during a mission, ending your servitude on his terms. He saw the light dimming behind your eyes and deemed you no longer worthy of his mission. Something…,” he pauses, his eyes closing hard and his jaw straining.
“Something in my gut told me I couldn’t let it happen.
That you would be the one that sets us all free in the end.
” With a hanging head, his feet move, jogging back towards the Vipers home base.
Kill me? I whimper, a single tear falling across my cheek as I realize just how close I came to the end.
How Jerome risked his life, is still risking it, just to help me avoid a brutal and bloody demise.
When the time comes that he needs me, I won’t hesitate to assist. It’s the least I can do to pay him back for what he’s done, and if I can, I’ll find out how to set him free.
The noise of an engine crawls up from behind me, the bus approaching right on time.
I swipe the back of my hand against my face, wiping away the last tear I’ll shed because of Colt and his men, and climb onboard.
I’m in for a long ride, but that’s okay, because it gives me the time I need.
Time in which I create my own plans, because right here, right now, I know deep within my soul.
I will be the last thing Colt will see.