Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
S antiago had one of his men clean and bandage the wound on my side. Luckily, the bullet barely tore through the flesh, missing any vital organs. Although all of my organs are vital in my opinion. Including the chunk of skin it took off when it shot through me.
The throbbing in my head is preventing me from opening my eyes. I’ve tried several times to find a way out, but I’ve grown too tired. Too weak. The blood loss has taken a toll on my body, and I can’t seem to recover from on my own.
Another scream rips through me as Santiago runs his blade down my bare chest, the sound bouncing off the cold stone walls. He’s angry that I broke his perfect nose. He’ll need some luck to explain that to his boss. We’ve been at this for what feels like days, but I doubt it has truly been that long. He’s shown me no hint of remorse, his eyes gleaming with malice as he continues slicing me open, one swipe of his knife at a time.
Despite the pain coursing through my body, I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. I clench my jaw, fighting back tears as I search for a weakness. Any weakness.
“Your dear husband will never know it was his own mother who requested sending you back to him in pieces,” he laughs. “Just like she did with his father.”
Wait, what?
The muscles in my body tense, constricting to the point of pain as he runs his blade across my stomach.
“Hmm,” he hums happily. “You’re so beautiful like this. Naked and bleeding for me.” He licks his lips, his free hand reaching out to caress one of my breasts. If my feet weren’t tied to the chair, I’d kick him in the fucking balls. “I can’t blame Kenzo for wanting you.” He leans in, his cheek brushing against mine. “So delicious and…” He lets out a bloodcurdling scream.
I laugh as his blood flows from my mouth, the small pinna of his ear dangling between my teeth. Take that, motherfucker. I spit out the piece of flesh as Santiago continues to scream, holding a hand to his ear. The metal door bursts open, and two of his men rush in to see what all the commotion is about.
“Fucking cunt,” one of the men roars, backhanding me across the face so hard it sends me sprawling to the floor…with the chair. “Boss.” He turns his back on me to help his boss, who is shouting at them to get him to the infirmary. They are so engrossed in an injured Santiago that they don’t bother to right me or check the room.
Irish luck has nothing on me. My chair landed just inches away from the scalpel Santiago has been using to flay my skin open. Irony is the best medicine for pain, apparently, because I feel like I can suddenly take on the world.
The arms of the wooden chair have loosened, and I manage to slip my right hand through the ropes and grab the scalpel. Sixty seconds later, I am free…and naked…and bleeding…and in severe pain.
Let’s look on the bright side, bitch .
Okay. WWKD?
What would Kenzo do?
Go on a shooting spree and kill them all.
Sounds like a plan…but I don’t have a gun.
I do have a knife.
Sort of.
Man, is it just me, or is the room spinning?
Focus.
I run for the door, thanking every god I know that they forgot to lock it. Peering around the corner, I find the hallway empty of any lunkheads.
Sweet. Go me. Go me.
Right. Focus .
I take off sprinting as fast as I can, which might as well be at a turtle’s pace for all I’m good for. The pain in my body is searing through me like a wildfire, and I’m leaving trails of blood as I go. Plus, still naked.
Not that it’s really all that important at the moment.
The adrenaline is fading, but I can’t stop. I won’t stop.
Kenzo. I need to get home to my husband.
Tell him I love him.
Give him the truth.
Man, it is going to break his heart.
He’s the only thing keeping me going.
My breaths sound strangled, and my vision blurs as I drag my legs farther and farther away from that blood-stained prison cell.
I won’t give up.
I can’t.
Just keep swimming.
Ha. LOL.
Does blood loss lead to hysteria?
One door. Then another.
Sunlight. This one leads to sunlight.
Keep going.
“Come on, little cunt,” a voice rings out behind me. Move faster legs. “If you make me chase after you, I’m going to fuck your cunt bloody.”
Yeah. Nope. Not my kink.
Keep going.
A hand fists my hair, and I scream. Switching the direction of the scalpel in my hand, I thrust it past my head, laughing at the hysterical scream from the man behind me. The scalpel slides back out.
Gross.
I think I cut his eyeball out.
One more step.
Just one more.
“Evaline!”
Who said that?
No. Keep going.
Don’t laugh. Just run.
Another laugh bubbles up as I stumble and fall to my knees.
The wind whips up around me, and my name is called from the heavens.
“Evaline.”
God, is that you?