Page 93 of Tainted Love

Chapter 31

Lucy

That motherfucker.

I pull on the cuff and it digs harder into my wrist.

“Dante! Get back here, you son-of-a-bitch!”

He’s long gone already, I know that, but calling him names feels pretty good right now. It always has, to be honest.

My veins throb as my circulation ceases, pinched too hard by my desperate attempts to slip free. I squeeze my fingers together, willing them to collapse in on themselves but I can’t manage to reshape them no matter how much I bend or twist them.

I’ll never trust him ever again. Who the fuck does he think he is? Or any of them for that matter? Who gave them the right to tell me what to do? This is my fight. It has been since day one and now Dante fucking Hart thinks he can just walk in here and bench me?

I don’t fucking think so.

They really locked me up and left me here. I have to wonder if Dante planned this from the start. He never had any intention of letting me kill Marty myself. He lied to me for weeks, letting me believe I was building toward something. At least, there’s one silver lining from my training and that’s the fact that I can probably get one solid hit in before Dante’s forced to kill me in self-defense.

I spin around and raise my legs, aiming my bare feet at the metal bars. This would be a whole lot better with shoes, but alas, I hadn’t put them on yet before Dante walked in here with his gorgeous, fuck-me eyes and chilling, seductive voice.

What a fucking asshole.

I slam my heels into the bar, hoping to snap enough pressure on it so it breaks my cuff free, but it doesn’t budge.

That lying, manipulative prick.

I hit the bar again, throwing every bit of force and strength I have. Again, it does nothing but shoot a bit of pain up my leg toward my knee.

And I’m a damned moron for falling for his shit.

Another hit and my knee joint seethes. “Fuck,” I hiss, rubbing the bone to soothe the fresh pain. I collapse against the bed, tears building in my eyes. “Goddammit…”

I can’t give up. I can’t let Dante take this from me. Today, even now, when I close my eyes, I see Marty Zappia staring down at me with a crowbar in his hands and flames behind him. I see my father’s body tumbling down as life itself drains from him. I see the blood-soaked bodies of my friends.

I will not let someone else feel the satisfaction of ending him.

I sit up and take a deep breath. There has to be some way I can free myself from this mess. I pull closer to the headboard to inspect the cuff. Dante always knows just how tight to make it so I can’t slip out, even with my small wrists. There’s no room to wiggle but I may be able to slip out if my thumb were just a little bit…

Fuck.

I inhale deeply. Pain has been a constant part of my life for so long now. I can take a little bit more.

I grab a pillow and shove it between my teeth.

My hands shake as I press against my thumb. I haven’t the slightest idea what I should be feeling for, but I don’t have time to waste here. I concentrate on the joint at the bottom of my thumb and push, biting the pillow hard as pain takes hold of me.

My thumb pops, dislocating from the joint.

I shriek from the sharp pain burrowing through my hand and the pillow falls from my mouth. My hand collapses, shrinking to the perfect size to slide it free of the cuff.

“Oh, shit…” I seethe, cradling my hand.

I stuff the pillow back in my mouth and fight through the pain, knowing that I can’t leave it like this. Following my instincts, I slide the thumb back toward the joint and it locks back in, firing a bolt twice as painful up to my elbow. Tears stream down my face, dripping onto the pillow in my mouth as I scream in agony.

But, at least, I’m free.

I push off the bed, race down the stairs, and run out the front door. The sun sits just above the horizon, turning the sky a startling shade of blue. The same color as Dante’s perfect fucking eyes.

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