by K. A Knight
I sidestep him and he mirrors my movement, blocking me again. Without speaking to me, he reaches forward and fondles my breast. I step back, wanting to murder him, and he just laughs and wanders away. Fuck it, his drink can wait. I’ll pay for it later, but I need a moment or I will explode.
Striding away, I slip around the corner and into the bathroom in the hallway, hiding for a moment.
I swipe at the useless tears tracking down my face and hang my head, looking down at the sink. How I wish I could go back in there, steal one of the guns they’re all packing and just kill them all. I was once a good girl, I did as I was told, I followed the law—fuck, I didn't even speed. I enjoyed sex and men, but who doesn't. Now? The darkness is almost overtaking me, I would do anything—be anything—if it meant they got to pay for their sins.
The door opens and I freeze, swinging my head around to face the wide-eyed waiter. Shit, did I not lock the door? Stupid, Dawn, real stupid. Straightening, I try to pretend he didn't just witness me having a breakdown, but I see his eyes soften and his face fill with concern. He slips inside and shuts the door gently, holding his hands up when I step back and meet the wall.
“Hey, I’m not going to hurt you. Are you okay?” He steps forward again, his young face filled with determination and concern. I wonder what it’s like to be that innocent. “I saw you earlier and I can see the bruises, do you need me to help you?”
“You should go before someone sees you,” I say softly, not wanting to be responsible for another man's death. Because if he’s caught in here, that's what it will mean—hell, he killed a man for looking at me funny once.
“I can help you,” he urges, lowering his voice like I’m cornered animal.
“Please, leave!” I beg, looking around desperately. I can’t, I can’t have anyone else's blood on my hands.
The door opens just then and my heart sinks. He hears it and spins, standing in front of me like he can defend me. Tim’s man from before looks from me to the waiter with a grin. “Well, well princess, lookie what I found. He’s going to be so mad, I wonder if he will let me punish you again.”
The waiter puffs up in indignation at his words, even as I go numb. “You can’t just talk—” His words cut off in a gurgle as Tim’s man darts forward and cuts off his air.
“You are coming with me. I can’t wait to see what he does to you.” The man laughs and drags the choking waiter from the bathroom. I hesitate before following, each step pounding into my head with finality. When I reach the living room, I spot Tim standing with a frown. When he sees the waiter in his man’s hand, and me lingering behind, his face turns molten. He excuses himself from the conversation and strides towards us.
He doesn’t stop until he grips my arm, hard. “Bring him with us,” he growls before dragging me down the corridor and throwing me into the bedroom. I fly onto the floor before quickly getting to my knees. A thump sounds next to me and I turn to see the gasping waiter his face purple, is on the floor next to me. Looking over my shoulder, I spot the door closing as another of Tim’s men slips inside and stands in front of it with the first. I’m trapped, and I have a bad fucking feeling.
“Sir, I—” My words are cut off as he backhands me, sending me sprawling to the carpet. I hear his men laugh, even as I spot the waiter trying to get to his feet, anger still seeping to his expression. This kid really doesn't give up, you’ve got to admire him for it.
“Stay down and you might live,” I whisper, knowing it’s a lie. They will kill him, they have to.
I slowly get up, standing on my wobbly legs and face Tim. His eyes are dark and filled with hate, his chest is heaving. I have seen him mad many times, but this... this is fury and he isn’t in control anymore. That scares me more than anything.
“Sir—” I try one more time, determined to at least try and save the kid’s life, but he doesn’t let me finish the sentence. I’m thrown onto the bed, gasping. He’s on me in a minute, hovering over me as his fists hammer into my skin. I try to protect my head by raising my arms, but one of his men steps in and ties them to the headboard. Looking up, I spot my death in his eyes and tonight is the night I know he won’t stop.
I lose count of the hits, my body is just one big pulsing mass of agony. I feel my ribs crack and my skin tear. Blood drips steadily down my face as he finally climbs off, allowing me to see the pale faced waiter staring at me in horror.
Tim pulls his gun and fires a shot in each of the waiter’s legs. The kid screams in pain as tears drip down his face. Only when he looks up again does Tim shoot him in the head. I watch the kid’s lifeless body drop to the floor as blood starts to pool around him.
He tucks the gun back in his pants and turns to me, hatred contorting his face. “You think I would let him touch you? You. Are. Mine!” he screams, flying at me again.
Tears stream unchecked down my face, as my breathing saws in and out of my damaged chest. I can feel my body breaking and I grin. At least I can escape him in death. My smile seems to spur him on. He yells, screaming nonsense as he grabs a knife and starts cutting. I feel each slice, each cut, and it blurs into all the other pain. My focus narrows down to my breathing as I watch him above me, killing me.
With a scream he buries the knife in my stomach, and looking down, I spot the blood pumping from the wound, and I know it’s a killing blow. All my other pale skin is covered in blood, and in places, I can see my muscle showing.
My head falls back as my heart stutters, my breathing becomes harder and darkness edges my vision. I could fight it, but what's the point? My only regret is not being able to make him and his men pay for what they have done to me.
“Fuck!” he screams, obviously coming back to himself, seeing what he has done.
He yanks out the blade, a stupid mistake, and tries to staunch the flow of blood. When he realises it’s futile, he freezes on top of me. I feel myself going cold and my breathing becomes erratic.
“Might as well have one last fuck with her,” he jokes, but I can hear the pain underneath and his men leave the room. I retreat back into the darkness, not wanting to witness this. Even when I’m dead I can’t catch a break, the last thing my dying body will experience is that pig rutting into me. It sends a stab of fury and hatred right through me, if only I could make him pay. Make him scared like I am, watch him die horrifically. It’s my last thought before the darkness takes me.
Am I fucking dead yet? It’s the only thing I can think of as I feel myself being carried, before I question further, the feeling fades to nothingness.
I manage to fight against the darkness again, only to realise I’m literally in darkness, something is moving and I’m banging about. I’m in the fucking boot of a car. I fade again.
Something cold and wet lands on my face, and my body is too heavy to move away from it as more lands on me. The sound of a shovel ringing out has me panicking, is he burying me? I fade again.
It’s harder to fight the darkness this time, it clings to my body, dragging me back with a wordless promise of happiness and love, but I don't want that. I want revenge, I want pain and blood. The thought helps me fight through the dark shroud until my mouth opens with a gasp, and my eyes fly open to see nothing but more darkness. I feel insects and bugs crawling on me, and I have to breathe through the panic. That motherfucker killed and buried me.
Wait, I felt myself die... how am I alive?
