Page 116 of Cruel Dominion

“Cart—”

“You fucking bitch!” Josh roared. He tackled me, bashing my head against the tile and knocking the lights out in my mind. Blindly, with half-dead arms, I pushed at his vicious hands, scratching and kicking.

But Josh was so much bigger than me. I couldn’t move his weight, and my muscles burned with the effort. This close, his unwashed stench overwhelmed me and I gagged on it.

I wasn’t going to be able to force him off me.

“Help!” I shrieked desperately.

Josh swore and covered my mouth with his filthy hand. I screamed against his grimy palm and he shifted his grip, covering both my mouth and my nose, making it practically impossible to breathe.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch!”

I panicked, thrashing against his grip as he hooked his other arm around my arms and his legs pinned me against the floor.

Without oxygen, my strength dwindled fast. My kicks got slower and weaker. Keeping my eyelids open felt impossible. The edges of my vision grew dark and hazy, and all I could see were Josh’s horrible, horrible eyes. Eyes that I once loved.

This can’t be how it ends.

My vision blackened and my lungs ached with a burn so deep it felt like they were on fire.

No.

Not yet.

I gave one last thrash and felt my limbs go uselessly limp.

But…I just…got him back…

It was Carter’s face that filled my mind as the world went black.

Somebody was pounding at the back of my head. Like a little man had crawled in my skull and was banging on the bone, trying to force his way out. I shifted, rubbing my eyes. When I opened them, I saw the heavy metal shackles around my wrists.

What the hell?

I was sitting on the floor of a strange room, propped up against a wall with my hands cuffed in front of me. My mouth was bone dry, and every one of my muscles ached. The light was dim, but it still hurt my sensitive eyes.

Slowly, it all came back. How Josh appeared outside my shower, then suffocated me until I passed out. He slammed my head against the bathroom floor during the struggle—that explained the headache.

You’re still alive.

That meant there was a chance I could still get out of…wherever I was.

The room was dimly lit, all the light filtering in around the tobacco-stained curtains hanging in the windows. The carpet underneath me was rough and synthetic. It looked like there had been a print on it once, but now, it was muddied into obscurity.

I searched for anything that would tell me where I was, piecing together that I was in a cheap motel room. Discarded fast food cups and bags littered the floor and overflowing ashtrays covered every other surface.

Through the open bathroom door, I could see used syringes scattered on the floor.

And on the couch…

My breath caught. For all his faults, Josh had always been good-looking. He had meticulously styled hair, clear skin, and a well-filled out physique. Now, he was barely recognizable. He looked like he’d lost thirty pounds. His cheeks were hollow, his skin pockmarked and pale. He hadn’t shaved in at least a week, and there was hair missing from the underside of his chin as if he’d burned himself.

He looked sick and wretched, like he’d given up on being human the moment I left. Or maybe, the moment he found out who I was.

His unfocused eyes were trained on the TV. He couldn’t really be registering the infomercials playing there. He just stared ahead, like he had no idea I was there.

Trying not to make any noise, I looked down at my own body. I was wearing an oversized t-shirt, probably Josh’s, and a pair of someone else’s panties. I shuddered, imagining who they might have belonged to, trying not to throw up.

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