Chapter 38 #2
Slowly, I raised a shaking hand to the door and did as he asked, pushing it shut and sealing myself in the room with this monster.
"Thank you.” He smiled softly.
The way that he could shift so quickly from anger to whatever this was was frightening. After all of this was over, I honestly did hope he got whatever help he needed. Even after everything he’d put us through.
Now that I was actually alone with him and without a cell phone, I wasn't exactly sure what to do. My heart sank at the realization that I was trapped.
Trapped in this apartment with only one neighbor at the end of the hallway, who probably wasn't even home, and I had no plan. There was no escape route, and there was no talking to him.
Why did I do this?
Stu began to round the island, and despite imagining this scenario a hundred times in my head, the only thing I did was freeze. I couldn't move, I couldn't react, I couldn't stop him.
My body stiffened as he stalked toward me with a determined look, his teeth grinding in frustration when my automatic response to his rising hand was to flinch away.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he ground out through clenched teeth.
"I don't believe you," I whispered.
I watched him process that for a moment before he stepped back a little, resting his hands on his hips. "I don't want to hurt you, Sloane. I've never wanted to hurt you. I don't–" he paused, sighing heavily, "I don't know why you have to make everything so hard!"
And just like that, he was back to being absolutely terrifying.
He reached for my chin; this time, flinching didn't deter him.
Stu pinched my chin between his thumb and curled index finger, tight, jerking my head toward him so I was forced to look at him.
My neck ached at the movement, a small whimper leaving my lips.
"I love you. I never stopped loving you.
Even when you started fucking that– that– good for nothing cokehead!
I've been waiting for you to pull your head out of your ass for months.
" His grip on my chin tightened. "FOR MONTHS, I've waited patiently, Sloane.
I have given you time to realize that I am what you need, and STILL, you test me.
You tell me you don't want me. I know that isn't true. "
My lips quivered. "But it's not true. I want Rhys, I love Rhys!"
The second the truth came out of my mouth, I knew it was the wrong thing to say. I should've kept my mouth shut or fed into whatever fairytale he was living in.
He growled, releasing his grip on my chin before shoving me back into the front door.
My head snapped back, smacking against the door with a thud, and before I could regain my composure, he was on me. Stu used his body to pin me against the door, his hands gripping the sides of my face before he forced his mouth onto mine.
I opened my mouth to protest, but he used the opportunity to force his tongue against mine. My stomach revolted at the taste of him, and the whiskey he'd been drinking, and the first thing coming to my mind was to bite down.
So, I did.
My teeth sank into his tongue, biting hard until I tasted his blood.
He screamed in pain, his hands on my shoulders as he attempted to back away, but I kept digging my teeth into him, despite the urge to throw up.
Just as I started to release my hold, he stuck my temple with what I assumed was the butt of his gun, making me sway on my feet and stumble past him.
My head pounded, blood dripping down the side of my face.
Stu screamed and groaned, bending forward as he clutched his face, blood pouring out of his mouth. I spit on the floor, desperate to clear the taste off my tongue.
He was blocking the door, so I backed into the kitchen to give myself room to think.
When he stood, my blood ran cold. Whatever love he thought he held for me dissipated before my eyes, pure rage flaming through his.
He was going to kill me.
I backed further into the kitchen, attempting to circle the island. Maybe if I could get past him, I could hide in my bathroom until someone came. I'd told Marvin I'd be back soon, and he would start to get suspicious... Right?
"I have really tried with you, Sloane. AND ALL YOU'VE DONE IS PUSH AND PUSH. My patience is GONE. DO YOU HEAR ME?!"
Slowly, I moved backward, hoping that if my steps were quiet and subtle enough, he wouldn't notice.
But Stu moved closer, his long strides covering more distance than my short ones. He was waving his gun around carelessly as he screamed at me, his finger resting on the trigger.
"Stu, please–"'
"NO!" he roared, taking another frantic step towards me.
"No more ‘please’, no more talking." He raised the gun to his temple, scratching at it.
"I've given you plenty of chances, and this–" He pointed the gun to his mouth, gesturing the blood still pouring down his face. "THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?!"
"Just calm down," I offered weakly," you're gonna– you're gonna hurt yourself."
He laughed humorlessly. "Oh, now you care about me?!"
"I don't want you to blow your brains out, Stu!"
This was a horrible mistake. I should've never set foot into this building. I should've known that this was some horrible setup.
He edged forward, gun in hand. "Do you care about me, Sloane?"
Despite my slow steps backward, he was still closing in on me. I did the only thing I thought would work and took off toward my bedroom, Stu's heavy footsteps falling quickly behind me.
Just as I was reaching for the doorknob, he grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking me back. I screamed in pain, reaching behind me to grab his wrist as he pulled me back down the hallway.
"DO YOU SEE WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT? YOU ALWAYS MAKE THINGS SO MUCH HARDER THAN THEY NEED TO BE!" He screamed in frustration as he threw me down, my head meeting the unforgiving surface of the hardwood floor with force.
I groaned, my vision blurring as tears filled my eyes.
He's going to kill me.
I turned to crawl away, but his hand wrapped around my ankle before I could get far, pulling me back. My nails scraped against the floor as I tried to escape his grasp, "Stu, NO! Stop!" I cried, kicking my legs aimlessly, hoping that one of them would land somewhere that hurt.
He pulled me back, using his free hand to flip me around so I was facing him once again. Stu dropped to his knees and used his body weight to keep me in place, shoving himself between my legs.
"NO!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face. I did my best to flail my arms and fight back, but he was over six feet tall and at least 220 pounds.
One of his hands pressed against my shoulder while the other came up, his fingers wrapping around my neck.
Every muscle screamed in protest from the pressure of his hand and the gasps I was taking as I fought for breath.
He's going to kill me.
I kicked as much as I could, thrashing against his full body weight, but it was useless. The edges of my vision blackened as we struggled, his dead eyes staring right into mine. "Stu–" I choked, reaching up to grip his wrist as his fingers tightened around my neck.
My free hand slapped against the hardwood as I felt around for something– anything– to get him off of me. And then it hit. Both of his hands were on me.
He dropped the gun.
I felt around on the floor, a new burst of hope giving me the strength I needed to keep fighting as I gasped for breath. I swept against something cold and metal, my fingers wiggling as I tried to pull it into my grasp.
"I loved you, Sloane," he seethed, "LOOK WHAT YOU'RE MAKING ME DO!"
I sobbed, his grip getting tighter as I stretched my arm. My fingers wrapped around the pistol grip, the trigger under my index finger as I pulled it closer to my body.
His eyes shifted to where my hand dragged across the floor, widening when he saw the gun in my grip.
Stu's hand lifted from my neck, and I gasped for air as he reached toward the gun, his hand circling mine.
This was it. It was me or him.
Fighting against him, I forced the gun between our bodies, his grip tightening around my wrist as he tried to stop me.
I screamed with every ounce of energy I had left, pointing the gun into Stu's chest and pulling the trigger.