My eyes are starting to adjust, so I see the shadow of King’s hand as he reaches out for me.
But when he touches my bare arm, something doesn’t feel right.
“King?”
The touch is searching, like he’s trying to figure out what part of my arm he’s grabbing.
And then I notice it. The texture. The leather. The glove.
“What…”
The hand locks down on my arm, hard.
Before I can scream, I’m being dragged across the mattress.
I struggle.
I try to shove the man away, but it’s still too dark. And I can’t…
Something slams into my cheek and my head blooms with pain.
“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” a male voice I don’t recognize laughs, “I’m only here to kill you.”
I thought King taught me the meaning of fear.
I thought I knew what it meant to be afraid.
But I was wrong.
Because terror swallows me, and it’s not like anything I’ve ever felt before.
I’m going to die.
A second gloved hand grabs at my neck.
This man is going to kill me.
He starts to squeeze and my eyes widen.
“No!” I choke on the word as he lets go of my arm to put his second hand around my neck.
All sense leaves me, and I claw at his arms as I try to push them away.
But he’s too strong.
His leverage is too great.
I blink through the tears that are streaming from my eyes.
I don’t want to cry anymore.
HE’S GOING TO KILL YOU, SAVANNAH! FOCUS!
I blink again, trying to figure out how he’s so tall.
Black spots start to form in my vision.
My throat hurts so bad.
He’s over me.
You’re running out of time.
I’m on my back. My legs are kicking, but there’s nothing there. The man’s not down there.
Hurry!
I kick my leg out to the side and find that the edge of the mattress is just inches away.
He pulled me to the edge and he’s kneeling over me.
HURRY!
Squeezing my eyes shut, I press my feet flat to the mattress, and slide them up, as close to my butt as I can get.
My lungs are crying.
My neck feels like it’s breaking.
My soul is screaming.
“It’ll be over in a second,” the voice whispers into the dark.
But I won’t accept that.
Not now when I have everything I’ve ever wanted.
Not now that I have King.
With all my might, I push up with my thighs, using all of my strength.
My lower body lifts, and I twist, rolling toward the edge of the bed.
My weight pushes against the man’s knees and he’s forced to let go of my neck to windmill his arms. But it’s not enough to stop what I’ve started.
My vision is fighting to come back as we both topple over the edge of the bed.
He lands first, on his back, and I fall, half on top of him.
Nausea fills me, from the lack of oxygen and from being this close to his body, but I don’t have time to feel sick.
I don’t have time for anything.
Shoving myself up, I elbow him, as hard as I can, in his stomach. It might not be the most effective body part to hit, but it’s right there.
He grunts, and I buy myself a split second to roll away from him.
But my legs are tangled in the blanket.
“Fucking bitch,” he hisses, and I feel the blanket being pulled back towards him, dragging me with.
I want to scream, but I’m still struggling to breathe.
My throat feels like it’s full of broken glass.
My palms find purchase on the hard floor, and as he tugs harder on the blanket, trying to draw me closer, he unwittingly frees me.
Hands on the floor, I scramble until I can get my feet underneath me.
Then I’m running.
I’m running as fast as I can out of my bedroom. Using memory to guide me through the dark house.
I can hear Duke outside.
Why is Duke outside?
Heavy footsteps land in the hallway behind me.
Sadness swamps me.
It’s so much like that first morning, when I ran from King. Except it’s nothing like that at all.
Because King caught me when I fell.
Because King promised to keep me safe.
But he’s not here.
King’s not here to save me.
“You’re going to regret that!” The man’s voice is so close.
My bare feet slap against the floor as I push to run faster and I have a fleeting moment to realize that if I was wearing socks, I’d be dead by now.
The stairs are there, they’re right there.
I have to make it.
I reach out and grab the banister, swinging myself around.
There’s noise outside. People.
The stairs end in the main entryway. I just need to get down the flight, cross the room, and rip the door open.
I’m going to make it.
My feet fly down the first few stairs.
And then something hits my back.
Something hard and unforgiving.
And I lose my footing.
I reach for the railing. But I miss.
The sharp edges of the stairs stare up at me as I crash towards them.
Grief fills me as my arms extend to brace my fall.
If I die, King will never forgive himself.
My left wrist connects with a crunch.
The scream I’ve been trying to shove out of my lungs finally lets loose, and it’s filled with pain.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Right before my temple hits the next step, the front door swings open, and light floods the room.
