21. Chapter 21 #3
Relieved for Zoey’s reprieve, I brace myself for what’s going to happen next. I’m not armed. Who knows when Cason and the others will be returning, not to mention he doesn’t know of the shitstorm he’s about to walk into.
Either way, if I leave with Steve, I’m sparing Zoey more horror and that’s what I focus on as he grabs my arm and drags me from the room.
With one last pathetic smile for Zoey who watches with wide, tear-filled eyes, I turn to Steve. His curly blonde hair and striking blue eyes remind me of a young actor I saw in some surfing movie once but the sour frown marring his features leaves me cold.
I have to figure a way out of this without risking Zoey and the first thing I do once we’re out of the room, is scramble to my feet.
Of course, the dick shoves shoves me further down the hall, causing me to stumble but I grit my teeth, ignoring the pounding against my skull.
Once we’re away from the door, I turn with my fists in the air. Steve’s lips curl into a pout and he shakes his head before saying, “If you don’t want to hurt more, you’ll get on your back. Now.”
“Hurt more?” I sneer. “What do you think raping me is going to do?”
When his eyes flicker, I think maybe he'll come to his senses until he licks his bottom lip, points at the floor and barks, “Shut up. On the floor!”
Is this a game to him? Maybe it’s the last time I plan to let a man order me around or maybe I don’t fucking care anymore, either way, as I back toward the table against the wall, I hiss, “Fuck you.”
“Bitch,” he mutters, reaching for my arm but he’s too late. With my right hand free, I grab the statue of an angel in prayer and swing it around, happy to find that its cast iron, heavy as fuck and will do nicely to bludgeon the prick.
Steve isn’t prepared for what hits him—literally—and when I smash the thing into his cheek, he staggers back before dropping to his knees.
Fiery rage pulses through my system and with a growl, I slam it against his temple, watching through a tunnel as he falls forward and collapses into a puddle of his own blood.
The red rivulets spiral out onto the white tile, creating a picture of the last minutes of this asshole’s life while visions of Ben’s body dance through my head.
My panting breaths are the only sound and I'm not sure how long I stand there staring at his body before reality hits me. Pasco, the fucker, is not going to be pleased about this newest turn of events, which is why I find myself hiding another fucking body, this time in the women’s restroom.
I have no idea how Pasco doesn’t hear me because despite trying to be quiet, it’s impossible when you’re lugging a man’s body around.
Maybe he thinks the sounds belong to Steve’s rape and defilement of me. Who knows?
Either way, I’m relieved that he doesn’t come to check things out and after dropping Steve’s skeevy body to the cool tile, I wash my face and hands in the sink.
The cool water stings my heated cheeks, but I ignore the sensation as I grab a paper towel and creep to the door.
I don’t have much time. Pasco is bound to come looking soon.
So, what do I do? I can’t leave Zoey.
When I tiptoe back into the hall, I spy Steve’s weapon lying on the floor. I’ve only shot a gun a few times and never loaded it, but I’ve watched Ben do it enough to at least know how to rack the chamber and aim before I fire.
Center mass, that’s what fills my thoughts when I pick it up and stop at the threshold of the room. I don’t see Zoey’s head and I hope that means she’s lying in the pew and will be spared what’s about to happen.
Unfortunately, there’s nothing more I can do to stave off her nightmares because I know if this man would encourage rape, he’s not the kind of person Zoey needs to be around.
Come to think of it, it’s awfully quiet for the dog too. I hope she’s not dead. Shit.
At the thought, rage circles my soul and sucking in a breath, I poke my head around the corner to find Pasco leaning against the wall, with his hat tipped over his eyes.
The asshole isn’t even worried. What a fool to assume I’m not a threat and a lesson I should heed. I’ve got more fire left in me than I ever thought possible.
Since the element of surprise is on my side, I raise that damn gun in the air and stalk down the center aisle. As soon as Pasco lifts his head, I aim at his chest and just as his eyes widen, I fire and fire and fire.
I don’t even care when he raises his rifle because I’m ready to go and ignoring the way his skin splits from the bone and blood sprays the wall when I hit his cheek, I only stop when the gun clicks empty.
That’s when darkness fills my vision, and I stagger back. The tunnel slowly closes and my knees give way. When something brushes my arm, I flinch away, a weird animal sound surrounding me.
It’s me. I’m that animal.
“Shelby?” The whispered words from the sweet little girl pull me back and I open my eyes as her fingers curl through mine.
Her tiny body gives me warmth against the cold seeping through my system and as I pull her close, I vow to never be a victim again.
Ever.