Page 66 of No Second Chances

I have to force myself to calm down. I have to deny him the joy he’ll get from hurting me. Royal might kill me, but he won’t win.

He can’t break me. Not anymore.

Impossible as it seems when I face the reality of my situation, my body starts to drift away, back to the warm embrace the darkness around me offers. The oblivion I so desperately need.

“Not so fast, Kennedy.”

I’m moving. He carries me, the smell of his disgusting cologne surrounding me like an old friend, and I want to gag. My throat won’t respond, so the bile sits in my stomach, waiting for a chance to revolt.

“You don’t get to miss this,” he hisses. “You don’t get to sleep through the pain you have to feel. The lies you have to confront. You know what you have to do. Take your punishment like a good girl, and maybe I’ll keep you around. Maybe I’ll give you back your life.”

He drops me in water, and I still can’t open my eyes.

Cold.

Whatever he used to knock me out had been powerful. I can’t even struggle when he shoves my head under the ice-cold water. I can’t pull away when he starts wrapping his hand in my hair and holds me down under the water so that my entire face is submerged. I can barely even feel the water on my skin, soaking through my clothes.

I know the game. I know exactly what he wants me to do. How I can survive for a few seconds longer. Hold my breath until it burns, until I can’t focus or think of anything but my next taste of fresh air. Then thrash and move and show him how powerful he is. Give him that and let him control whether I live or die. Only then will he let me up for those great gasping breaths that I need to pull into my lungs.

But I’m done playing the game.

Even drugged and unable to fully understand what is happening or even move, I know it is over. Royal is going to kill me and I can’t do anything about it. Not with my body refusing to listen to my attempts to move. The only thing working in my favor is my brain. My ability to control how I die. A death I won’t give him.

Stupid girl.

I should have had the escort. I should have let someone follow me home. So many shoulds.

I hope Linc doesn’t find my body.

It would destroy him to have to see me that way. Him and my dad. They shouldn’t have to bury another loved one. Hopefully Royal will hide my body and make it impossible to know what happened to me. Maybe he’ll build a lie around how I ran away from my life, seeking a change. Maybe they’ll believe him, and no one else will die. Maybe I can live on in their memories.

Royal shakes me under the water, trying to determine if I’m unconscious or not. I haven’t moved a single muscle, even though I want to.

I don’t move. I don’t try to save myself by giving Royal what he wants. I don’t try to push away or breathe the water that will make me choke and give him a reaction. Instead, I find the strength to open my eyes, and I stare at the monster he has turned into through the shifting water. Black, beady eyes meet mine, full of rage and arousal.

But I still don’t play his twisted little game.

Royal doesn’t get that part of me. Not anymore. He doesn’t control me. He never will.

I’m going to die.

And I’m going to win.

Thirty seconds pass in the blink of an eye, then more tick by as he holds me under the water. My chest is on fire as the need for air tries to overpower my will to win, but I don’t move. Even if he lets go of me, I won’t move. My fingertips are going numb, the lack of oxygen cutting off the circulation and adding even more pain to my already overwhelmed body. Still, I can feel needles pricking the tips of my toes and my legs, so whatever he gave me must be wearing off.

I smile.

I might be dying, yeah, but I smile just the same. I smile for all the pain I know he can’t inflict on me anymore. I smile because Royal may have gotten away with what he did to Mallory, but there isn’t a chance in Hell that he’ll get away with killing me.

I may die, but he’ll finally pay the price for his actions.

When my vision starts to go black, I know I finally win. I may have killed myself by his hands, but I win and there is nothing Royal can do about it. I welcome death like an old friend, smiling the entire time.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Cassie is there, screaming in my face even though I can’t see her.

“Winning.” I laugh and answer the hallucination.

“Do you know how stupid everyone is? First, Casper gets fucking shot because of me. Then you go and decide to be a hero. Seriously, Kennedy. What the hell is wrong with our family? Are you trying to die? Play the fucking game and let him think he’s winning. That’s how you win. You lull him into a sense of security, and then you cut his head off with the machete you hid under his bed but never had the courage to use. He won’t get to the baseball bat he used to hit you with in time. Take him by surprise and really win.”

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