Page 24 of The Pretty Psycho

The brother I thought I had was just a predator, biding his time and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

My life, my body, my fucking choices belonged to me. Not to him, not to them, and I refused to give him more power than he already had.

He managed to scar me, to hit me, to make me feel like I wanted to die, but I would be the one who would show him the true meaning of pain. He had no idea what he did when he took me into that cave. He had no idea the hell I would bring him.

"Vega!" Yolanda called out from outside the door. "We have a problem!" She screeched loud enough for me to drop the sinister thoughts and continue putting on the clothes she brought me. I stumbled, cursing to myself as I slowly pulled on the leggings, hating the fact that my injured hand was almost useless at this point.

Ifelt useless.

The sweater felt too tight on my bruised skin, but it would have to do. The leggings were my size, and I tried ignoring the feeling of the fabric on the placeshetouched. I located the boots quickly, my face scrunching as my bare feet slid into them. "It's only temporary. You're gonna get some socks soon." There were not many things I hated, but wearing any kind of closed shoes without socks was definitely on top of that list.

"Vega!"

"I'm coming!"

Kicking the hospital gown to the corner, I opened the door, coming face to face with Yolanda's tearstained face as she bit her nails. I opened my mouth, the words just at the tip of my tongue, when a crash from outside the room made both of us jump.

My eyes moved toward the door, which was now barricaded with a chair I assumed Yolanda had placed. I looked at her, my eyebrow arching. "Don't look at me like that," she sniffed. "I had to do something. They're coming."

I wasn't going to say anything, but the way her mind worked was completely different than mine. I would've found a weapon, any kind of weapon, because I knew the chair could only hold them for a couple of minutes, even with the doors locked.

My legs carried me toward the IV stand just as the sound of someone jiggling the doorknob filled the room.

"Oh God," Yolanda whispered, taking a step closer to the bathroom. We were trapped in here and whoever was behind that door knew that.

With no time to spare, I picked up the half-empty bag of IV fluids and threw it on the bed, lifting the pole in my hands. The adrenaline kicked through me, making me feel stronger than I actually was, but I would take it. I had to.

One look at Yolanda told me everything I needed to know—she would be no match for those coming to attack us.

The chair shook as the unmistakable sound of someone slamming into the door echoed around us, and within seconds, the chair flew away from the door, which opened with a crash, slamming into the wall.

Two men stood at the threshold, their ugly fucking mugs grinning sinisterly at me just as they stepped inside. Both had full black tactical uniforms on them, with knives strapped to their thick thighs. They were bigger and definitely stronger than me, but I didn't go through all that training for nothing.

I didn't leave my blood, sweat, and tears on the tatami in the training rooms just to cower in front of these two. In any other situation I'd be a hundred percent sure I could take them both, but when the second one plastered his eyes to Yolanda who just kept standing there, crying with her little sobs filling the room, I knew I had to act fast.

There was no time to spare, no time to think, and as they pushed farther inside, I acted.

The cast on my hand stopped me from grabbing the pole properly, but it would have to do. I slid over the floor, the leggings I wore proving to be perfect for this, aiming for the first one’s legs. His eyes widened, eyebrows skyrocketing as my boot-clad foot connected with his knee, making him tumble down momentarily.

"Fuck!" the man grunted, trying to lift himself up, but I knew I had to finish this fast.

If he had a chance to get up and gain momentum, I was as good as dead. All I had right now was the surprise factor and nothing else.

I narrowed my eyes at him, and as he lifted his head up to look at me, I struck, putting all my strength into the hit right over his head. The clang that reverberated around us as the metallic rod connected with the side of his head would've been funny had we not been in this situation in the first place.

"Bitch!" His hand shot out, grabbing the pole I held on to, and with one of my hands practically out of service, he managed to shake me off, getting me to drop the thing. A wicked smile shone on his face before he slammed into me, lifting me up from the floor and throwing me onto the bed.

I thrashed against him as he wrapped his hands around my throat, his weight pushing down on me, reminding me of… No. Fuck no!

I was not a victim.

I was powerful.

I was Vega fucking Konstantinova.

Yolanda's scream tore through my head, through the panic slowly rising in my chest, and as the man on top of me put more pressure into the grip he had on me, I fought. I fought like a fucking wildcat, wrapping my hands around his throat, pushing my fingers into the indents between his esophagus andthe muscles in his throat. He started coughing, but he never relented.

He wasn't letting go.

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