Part 10 (1/2)

He strokes my face with his fingertip before pressing the tip of the blade into my cheek. I don't even care anymore.

”Kill me.” It's all I can say, all I want. I am done. I'm not strong enough for this nightmare. These are the monsters that other monsters fear. They will break me beyond reparation. Black spots dot my vision. I'm so tired. I'm so cold. I just want to sleep.

His smile deepens into a maniacal grin as he places the blade against my throat. ”Not yet, sweet thing.” His eyes trail over my naked body, and he chuckles. ”Not until I get exactly what I want.”

He palms my breast again. His harsh movements pull at the cut on my chest, and I wince. His hand trails over my stomach. ”How about I finger-f.u.c.k this pretty p.u.s.s.y of yours.” His fingers dip between my legs, brus.h.i.+ng against me. I squeeze my legs closed, trying to scoot away from him, but I'm too weak. Bile rises in my throat, even as my consciousness tries to slip away. Everything in me recoils violently at the thought, battling through my foggy mind and demanding I fight this. This man has stripped me, beat me, cut me, but he will not f.u.c.king rape me. I would rather die a thousand times over.

I grab his wrist and use the last of my energy to thrust myself off the floor. The sharp edge of the knife bites into my neck. I instantly feel the hot blood rush down my throat, and I smile, falling back against the concrete. I'm so cold. My body is broken and my soul is shattered. I welcome the blackness as it consumes me.

I open the door and hear Bob's gruff voice. ”How 'bout I finger-f.u.c.k this pretty p.u.s.s.y of yours?”

I feel a growl work its way up my throat as I throw the door to the freezer room open.

Rage consumes me. She is sprawled on the floor, still naked, only now, her bare skin is coated in blood. Bob has a knife to her throat, and his filthy-a.s.s hand is sunk between her thighs.

Red. That's all I f.u.c.king see. I'm going to rip his f.u.c.king head from his shoulders.

I watch her fingers wrap around Bob's wrist, and in that moment, everything seems to slow down. She violently jerks her shoulders from the floor, forcing the blade of the knife against her throat. Blood spills from the cut. Her eyes flutter closed, and she slumps back against the concrete floor.

”f.u.c.k!” I shout, and grab Bob's shoulder, shoving him away from her. ”Get the f.u.c.k away from her!”

I look at the gash on her throat. There's so much f.u.c.king blood. It's trickling down her neck in a steady stream and pooling beneath her. The adrenaline jolting through me makes my head swim. I press my hand over the wound in an effort to slow the bleeding, and red liquid wells up through my fingertips.

”Tor!” I shout at her, panicking. I take my free hand and pat her face. ”Victoria?”

I rip my s.h.i.+rt over my head and place it over the wound. It quickly soaks with blood. I trail my eyes down the long, jagged cut on her stomach. If I thought I could remove my hand without her dying, I would take that knife and slit Bob's throat right now. He's just standing behind me, watching her die, and that p.i.s.ses me off. He knows this isn't how we planned this. This is not what was supposed to happen.

”Get me some f.u.c.king blankets, you worthless s.h.i.+t!” I scream, and he calmly leaves the room.

Slipping my arms underneath her back, I pick her up and cradle her limp body in my arms.

Her lips are deep blue, her skin a listless grey. She's so f.u.c.king cold. s.h.i.+t.

Guilt consumes me. What the f.u.c.k have I done?

I rush into the medical room and lay her on the gurney. I hear footsteps running down the stairs, and Bob hurries in a few seconds later with an armful of blankets, followed by Caleb.

”What the f.u.c.k”-Caleb's wide eyes dart up to me-”did you do to her?” He's already at the foot of the gurney, tearing open one of the medical kits. ”You're a f.u.c.king a.s.shole,” he growls as he throws my hands away from her neck. The b.l.o.o.d.y s.h.i.+rt falls from the bed, making a sickening splat when it hits the ground.

”Watch the way you f.u.c.king talk to me.” I shove my finger in his face. ”She's not f.u.c.king dead!” I yell. ”Fix her!”

He shakes his head as he mumbles something under his breath. ”Hold this to her neck,” he says, pa.s.sing me a handful of gauze. ”And put the blankets on her!”

I take the gauze, pressing as hard as I can over her throat. s.h.i.+t. She looks dead. I can feel my pulse in the back of my throat, and I realize I'm panting.

”s.h.i.+t! She has hypothermia!” He's pacing, his tone frantic. His eyes widen and shoot up to mine. ”We need to warm her up, right now.” He gathers her in his arms.

”Warm her up? What are you gonna do, throw her in a f.u.c.king tub?”

”No, you f.u.c.king idiot! You'll send her into cardiac arrest. She needs more blankets and body heat.” He lays her back down, running his hands over his head. ”f.u.c.k, Jude! Just f.u.c.k!” He punches the wall, then leans over his knees shaking his head. I can tell he isn't exactly sure what to do, which makes me uneasy. He straightens up and inhales. ”Okay. We've got to warm her up. And we've got to st.i.tch that cut on her neck.”

My gaze darts to the weeping wound on her abdomen. Blood is every-f.u.c.king-where. It's never bothered me before, but this...this makes my stomach turn. ”The one on her stomach? You need to st.i.tch that!” I shout at him.

”Shut up and just let me think.” He grabs his head, pacing again as his eyes shoot back over to her. ”That can f.u.c.king wait. It's not that bad.”

I stare at her, and I swear, she's growing paler by the second. ”We need to get her out of this d.a.m.n bas.e.m.e.nt. It's too cold.”

Caleb picks her up, and I immediately s.n.a.t.c.h her out of his arms, bundling her in the blankets. I nod toward the door. ”Come the f.u.c.k on. I can't st.i.tch her up.”

I'm taking several steps at a time with her clutched to my chest. I kick my bedroom door open. The doork.n.o.b crashes through the sheetrock.

”This is a f.u.c.king mess!” Caleb flips back the comforter. ”A f.u.c.king mess, Jude,” he shouts.

I lay her on the bed and touch her cheek, hoping some heat has returned to her, but she feels even colder to me. ”Why isn't she warming up? Why's she still so f.u.c.king cold?” I scream, pointing at her. ”She's got blankets. She's colder than she was without them.” I can't stand to look at her any longer. I don't want her to f.u.c.king die.

”She can't generate her own body heat. Someone else has to do it for her.” He's calmed down a little, and is already laying out items from the kit he brought with him. ”You're gonna have to do it. I need to sew her up.”

”Do what?”

He glares at me as he pulls thread out. ”Warm her up...this is a little f.u.c.king far...don't you think?” Caleb's threading the needle, but his eyes are locked on me. ”Are you gonna give her some body heat or what, Jude? I'm not gonna st.i.tch her up if you're just gonna let her die anyway.”

”s.h.i.+t.” I yank the comforter back to crawl in the bed next to her.

”Skin-on-skin,” he says. ”It needs to be skin-on-skin to work.”

”Seriously?”

”I'm not gonna watch her die, Jude! Take your f.u.c.king clothes off and warm her up!” he shouts. Caleb's on edge, and I can't really blame him. This is f.u.c.ked up, even for us.

I strip down to my boxers and pull the comforter over us both. I drag her lifeless body to mine, wrapping my arms around her. I immediately cringe away from the chill of her skin.

Caleb kneels beside the bed. He pulls the gauze from her neck and tosses it to the floor, then shakes his head. ”You're gonna have to lay on your back and pull her on top of you. I can't reach her throat this way.”

I do as he says and roll over, pulling her body on top of mine. He tucks the sheet up over her shoulders to cover her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. ”This is all your fault!”

”Shut the f.u.c.k up and st.i.tch her.”

He sweeps her damp hair to the side, and it falls onto my shoulder. I feel ice-cold water drip down my bicep. ”I told you this was bulls.h.i.+t, Jude. I told you she didn't know anything.” He jabs the needle through her skin. She doesn't flinch. She doesn't move.

His face grows redder with each pa.s.sing second. ”She's innocent, and you knew that, deep down inside.” He works the thin black thread in and out, quickly sewing up the wound. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his disgust with the situation all over his face. ”I've spent the last week locked in a room with her, remember? I think I would have had an idea!” he shouts, his voice slightly shaking.

I adjust her on top of me, tightening my hold around her to provide as much warmth as possible. ”You can't ever be too sure. You should know that.”

”Well, looks like you got what you wanted.”

”I didn't want this, Caleb. She's linked to f.u.c.king Joe. Joe! There was a chance she was in on it. I had to find out.”

He pulls on the thread and cuts it. Then he lifts the covers and st.i.tches her stomach. Once he's finished, he pushes himself away from the bed. Leaning down to me, he narrows his eyes. ”There was a chance. A very small chance. h.e.l.l, you're a f.u.c.king genius with numbers, how small was that chance, huh?” He straightens up and wipes his b.l.o.o.d.y hands down his s.h.i.+rt. ”You think everyone is a threat, why not just go on a ma.s.s killing spree? She's just a girl.” He points at her. ”A girl who was taken against her will. And I told you that. But guess what, now she's a girl you almost killed because you're paranoid. She's gonna be f.u.c.ked in the head for the rest of her life because you had to be sure!”

”You need to shut your mouth right now,” I slowly say, my tone calm and collected and deep.