Page 29 of Wicked Vengeance

Again.

Looking around again, I don’t see anything that can be readily used as a weapon to defend myself. This room is almost as bare as my original cell. I move to the window, testing the bars, but they don’t budge. They aren’t on the outside of the window. They are on the inside, which means they were installed just for the purpose of keeping someone inside this room. Looking out, all I can see are the tops of the trees surrounding the property. This must be the attic.

He brought me to his fucking house.

I mean…it’s a step up from the underground cell I was kept in last time, but this man is fucking delusional if he thinks he can bring me here, and I’ll what, eventually give up fighting him, and we can play house? He’s out of his goddamn mind. But of course, I knew that already. Who in their right fucking mind kidnaps an 18-year-old girl to fucking ‘breed’ her for an heir. Never mind all the other things he’s done to me or allowed his men to do.

I’ve got to figure this out.

The curtains slip between my fingers as I turn from the window to explore the room. The room has a steep A-line roof that I can touch in some places because it’s so low. In the middle of the room, there’s a half-wall. My feet shuffle across the floor on their own accord. It’s difficult to see in the dark, but once I get to it, I stumble back a step. It’s a staircase going into the floor, but I can’t see anything after halfway.

If I have any chance at escaping, I need something to use as a weapon– and some fucking clothes. Squinting my eyes, I scan the rest of the room. Two doors on the wall across the room draw my attention.

The first one I open reveals a bathroom. A toilet sits on one side next to a podium sink and an open shower stall across from it. And that's being modest about it. It’s literally a drain in the tile floor and a rusted sprayer coming out of the wall. It doesn’t look like this room has been used in years, if ever, with the amount of dust and mold living in here. I back out of the tiny bathroom with a grimace, closing the door behind me. When push comes to shove, I’m going to have to use it at some point, and I’m not looking forward to it. It’s a far cry from Alek’s gigantic bathtub or their rainforest shower that feels like a full-body massage.

My chest squeezes tight at the thought of my men. I still don’t understand how quickly I fell for them and them for me. But it’s the realest thing I’ve ever felt in my life. And no matter what, I’m getting the fuck out of here and back to them. Back to my daughter. Whatever it takes.

The next doorknob clicks as it unlatches, but to my dismay, it’s a closet. It’s stuffed full, overflowing boxes and dust bunnies. Maybe I can find something packed away up here that could help me. Anything at all.

Swiping the thick layer of dust off the first box reveals cursive scrawl handwriting. It’s too dark to make out exactly what it says, but I don’t take the time to figure it out. Ripping through the tape, the top flaps open.

Bingo! Clothes.

Thank Fuck!

It’s not going to help me get out of this fucking place but at least I don’t have to fight my way out naked– these fuckers have had enough free access to my body. Though the idea of walking out of this fucking mansion with every inch of my naked body slick with Kingsmen blood and the monsters head in my hands is kind of poetic.

Bloody Queen.

Maddox would be proud.

My heart pinches in my chest. They are counting on me as much as I’m counting on them. Our family will never be safe until King is dead. My daughter will never be safe. Even if I make it out of here alive, there will always be a target on our backs. I’m sick of running. My daughter deserves a normal life. She didn’t ask to be brought into this any more than I did. We’re both collateral damage of someone else’s decision. This ends now. It ends here.

Pulling clothes from the boxes, I manage to find a pair of sweatpants and a fitted tank top. I ignore the musty smell that saturates the fabric from being packed away for God knows how long. It could smell like horse shit, and I wouldn’t care.

Before I can slip the clothes on my body, shouting filters in through the floor, followed by heavy boots, as if people are running. Not wanting to be caught in this closet in case they take away the stuff in here, I put the treasured items back on the top of the box and slip out of the closet. I still don’t have a weapon.

Fuck.

Frantically scanning the room for literally anything, my eyes pause at the window. Without thought, I jerk down the curtains and unsheath the heavy rod– "with decorative points at each end. This will do. I’ll shove this rod up one of their asses before I leave.

Darting across the room, my breath heaves out of me in harsh pants as I crouch down beside the half wall hiding the staircase and try to calm down. My hands have a death grip on the metal rod, and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut.

A door at the bottom of the stairs opens, and gunfire pops in the distance.

Okay, bad-ass Hunter.

Now would be a great time for you to take over.

Heavy footsteps race up the steps, and when they reach the top, I swing for my life. Everything happens in an instant. The rod hits the fucker right in the dick, and he drops to his knees and doubles over.

“You fucking cunt!” He bellows as he rocks.

I’m on him in an instant. Shoving the big fucker over onto his back, I straddle his body and stab him right in his fucking face. The guttural scream that follows doesn’t sound like it came from my body, but I can’t seem to stop it. The rod is lodged in his eye socket, and it squelches when I yank it free. Blood sprays across my bare stomach and breasts, reminding me that I am once again fighting for my life fucking naked.

The rod is slippery as I grip it with both hands and raise it above my head. It’s clear this asshole is already dead, but it doesn’t stop me from stabbing him in his stupid, rapist face until all that's left atop his shoulders is a bloody pulp that’s no longer recognizable.

The makeshift weapon slips from my hands and clatters to the hardwood floor. I can feel my body slipping into the numb, dissociative state that protects me from what I must do as a hunter. But I pull myself back. This isn’t over. I have to get the fuck out of here while I have an opening.

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