Chapter Eleven
I step into the bathroom, and my eyes flicker up to the window. It’s dark outside. I don’t know the exact time, but the darkness tells me I have cover. I don’t like the blackness of night—especially outside. It’s always been a fear of mine…
But whatever is out there is less likely to kill me than the man in here.
I take a deep breath, knowing the more time I waste, the more time I lose. However, breaking the window isn’t going to be easy. It’s about four feet above the very top of the toilet, and there’s nothing to use around here. The cabinets are empty, and I can’t find anything heavy enough that I can use…
Until I realize I’m staring at it.
I rush to the toilet and lift the back lid. Much to my surprise, it pulls away completely. The devil didn’t think about the toilet. However, now that I have it, I’m facing a different predicament… I needed to stand on top of the toilet to reach the window with more ease.
I’ll have to throw it…
I place the lid back on toilet and quietly climb up it, grabbing ahold of the windowsill to steady myself. Part of me expects to see that eerie masked face peering back at me as I look out, but instead, I see nothing. Nothing of concern, that is. I can’t make out exactly what’s on the other side of the glass, but it appears to be some sort of flower bed.
Stepping back down onto the seat, I pick the lid back up. He could have an alarm system or cameras… The thought causes hesitation, but I don’t let it hinder me. He’s only been gone for a short amount of time—and I have to take the opportunity when I have it.
And know that he might kill me if this doesn’t work.
The fear washes through me in waves, but the desperation to get out of this strange hellhole is stronger. If he kills me, he kills me. He said he was going to, anyway. Might as well die trying.
Using all the force that I can, I throw the toilet lid, bracing as the porcelain connects with the glass. I cringe at the noise of glass shattering, and jump into action, placing a bare foot on either side of the upper bowl”s rim. No alarm sounds, but that doesn’t bring me any relief. This is only the beginning. I peer through the window, my stomach dropping at the shards still left.
Glancing behind me, I rip my shirt over my head and wrap it around my fist and forearm. I swipe at the glass, clearing the small space as much as I can. As soon as I’m sure I can shimmy through without getting cut, I shake out my shirt and put it back on.
I force deep breaths as I reach through the opening. I’m only five-feet-six inches, and the window is farther off the ground than I thought. But it’s too late now. I have to move. My fingers scrape against the concrete outside, and I bend my knees before launching myself forward.
It’s a tight fit, but I squirm and kick my feet while digging my fingers into the mulch covered ground to drag me forward. The air is much cooler. And drier. I fill my lungs with it, and pause after I make it out, sitting there in the flower bed.
I have no fucking clue how to get out of here—and there are no lights around the house. I stand to my feet, breathing my way through the lightheadedness. It passes, thankfully, and I scan the darkness. The easiest way would be to find the driveway, right? I can just run straight to the road.
With that in mind, I slink around the side, and it’s then that I realize just how luxurious the house is. It’s a stucco ranch style home, and the more I stare at it, the more I realize there’s no way in hell we’re still in Georgia.
Where am I?
I shake my head. I’ll figure that out later. I ease around to the front of the two-story home before catching sight of the asphalt driveway. It leads into the cover of thick trees, and that’s better than standing out in the open.
As I take a step forward, I freeze at the sound of a dog barking. A big dog. My mind instantly fills with images of being chased down by attack dogs, but I only hesitate a few seconds before racing off into the night.
I just have to get out of this place, and I’ll be free.
Ignoring the returning pain in my feet, I push myself, staying under the cover of the trees. I follow the driveway until my lungs are burning so fiercely, I have to stop. My hands drop to my knees as I bend over, gasping for air. I should’ve run more. I should’ve been in better shape—but then again, I never could’ve imagined this.
I wipe the sweat from my forehead and face before looking back at the house. The only noise I hear is of the dog barking, but it sounds distant. My head aches, and I know I’m dehydrated. I needed more than a half bottle of water.
I should’ve gotten a drink from the sink before this adventure.
A soft sigh escapes my lips as I lean against the tree, running my hands over my face. I’m tempted to break down in tears again. I don’t understand how I became a target of such a cruel fate. I don’t go outside. I don’t make waves with anyone. I never leave my house, so why is this guy so damned determined to kill me?
“Suke!” I hear the command ring out in the night, and I nearly vomit. I know what it means. My mother owned protection dogs.
And now I’m being hunted.
Tears stream down my face as I take off again, ignoring the aches and pains. I’d rather die of a heart attack than be taken down by a dog. I push myself as hard as I can, gasping for air as the end of the driveway comes into view—and a gate. A large, impossible to scale, wrought-iron gate.
The fencing beside it reminds me of my own at home, a tall stone wall. I barrel toward it, searching for anything I can use to get over it. However, the sound of brush crashing behind me causes me to freeze. I spin around to see a jet-black dog stalking toward me in the moonlight.
Holy shit.
I brace for the impact, but he stops, letting out loud choppy barks.
“Guard her,” a voice growls from somewhere in the woods.
The dog rushes me, backing me up against the wall, barking and growling without touching me. I turn around to face the wall, reaching my hands up.
Maybe, just maybe, I can climb it.
“I’ll call for attack if you try to climb that fucking wall, Little Red.”
A sob breaks through my chest as I turn back around and am met with that unnerving, masked face. I know I look weak, but I don’t care as the tears spill down my face. Fuck this guy. Fuck him for kidnapping me and not just killing me.
He motions with his hand and the dog returns to him. “Did you really think you could escape me? That I wouldn’t know you broke my window?”
I swallow hard as he approaches me, leaving his dog sitting quietly where he once was. “I-I-I…”
His body crowds mine, pressing my back against the stone. “You have more guts than I gave you credit for, but I live for nights like these.” He leans down, his bare hand brushing my hair out of my face so gently I shiver. “You’re a long way from home, Emma—and even if you could have escaped this wall, you’d never make it far. There’s nothing out here but me. Well,” he nods back to the dog, “and him.”
I open my mouth, but I don’t say anything to him. I just want it to be over. Squeezing my eyes shut, I think of the stupidest thing I could do right now, and I do it. I shove back at his chest, and surprisingly, it catches him off guard.
But he barely moves, and his dog growls.
I expect him to come back at me, to hit me—to do something. Instead, he stands there, peering down at me with that stupid fucking mask. Rage replaces my fear, and I go after him again, my heart pumping. I let out a frustrated scream and punch his chest with all my might, fresh tears streaming down my face. And then I hit him again and again, barreling my clench fists into him.
The dog begins to bark at me.
“Quiet,” he grunts, and the dog hushes. Consequently, so do I, my body trembling violently. The tears have stopped, and I drop my now-sore fists to my sides. I consider dropping to the ground, forcing the brute and his dog to carry me back to my prison, but somehow my knees don’t fail me.
He’s definitely going to chain me up now, though.
“Are you done?” His words come across dull and unenthused, making me feel even smaller than he did before. I stare at him, knowing I probably look bewildered and frazzled right now. “You can run again if you’d like. We can do this all night, Little Red. I’m always going to win.”
I nod, letting out a manic chuckle. I tip my head back and look up at the stars, peeking through the tops of the trees. “I almost made it,” I mutter up at them, as if they’re listening. “Almost. I’ll always be an almost.”
He’s silent to that, letting out another one of those pained sighs. I bet I annoy him with my emotional garb. A man who kills people has to be emotionless and disconnected from humanity. He’s probably soulless.
I wrap my arms around myself and take a step forward. My legs shake, and I realize the dehydration and minimal food really is catching up to me. My head spins violently, my heart rate increasing beyond the rate it was when I was sprinting.
Please don’t pass out, I plead internally with my condition. I hate POTS. I worked so hard for it to be minimized and now this has set me back. I’m on the verge of blacking out. I can’t always feel it, but this time… I can.
“Should I drag you by your hair?” he chuckles as I stumble over my own feet. “Or are you going to come without a fight? I’ll take either.”
I glare at him, shivering so badly now my teeth chatter. I hesitate, struggling to catch my breath. “I need water and to sit down.”
He doesn’t say anything, but makes a gesture to the dog, who rushes behind me, herding me back toward the house. The dog nudges me, as if to tell me to pick up my pace, and I nearly lose my balance again. I right myself, but the trees around me begin to spin a little faster. I feel like I’m on an amusement ride, and my stomach churns.
“I need water,” I repeat myself, this time more boldly, though my voice wavers. “I have… I… I have a medical condition.”
He snorts, continuing at his same pace. “Alright.”
“Please,” I say as my head grows lighter, my ears now ringing. “I-I-I don’t think I can make it back. I n-n-need to sit down.” I reach for his arm as he stays a step ahead of me, and my vision begins to blur.
He stops, spinning around. I collide with him as everything goes black.